


Book 2: Parseltongue and Prejudice

by TheWizzard



Series: Harry Potter and the Consequences of the Trip to the Library in Primary School [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Hogwarts House Sorting, Creative harry, Curious Harry, Gen, Harry explores Hogwarts, Harry finds out about Magic earlier, Harry loves Fantasy Books, Observant Harry Potter, Open-minded Harry, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Sentient Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-05
Updated: 2019-04-09
Packaged: 2019-05-02 13:00:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 41,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14545299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWizzard/pseuds/TheWizzard
Summary: Things are looking up. Harry is looking forward to the best summer ever. However, a surprise visit at Privet Drive announcing a school year full of plots and dangers indicates that Harry is doomed to stumple from one dangerous adventure into another. It doesn't matter. Harry will stand beside his friends and will do anything in his power to keep them safe and sound. He will challenge authority, cause havoc and do his best to beat (or break) the system.  Even if it's not your fault, it's your responsibility.





	1. An Ominous Warning

“ _Summer will end soon enough, and childhood as well.” – George R.R. Martin, A Game of Thrones_  
  


The Dursleys had changed. They were even more unpleasant than in previous years. And Harry was putting it mildly. The minute Harry arrived back at Privet Drive Uncle Vernon grabbed his school trunk, tossed it into the cupboard and locked it up. Harry could hardly suppress a snort. Uncle Vernon looked like someone who had just disposed of a dangerous animal. The trunk would have hardly swallowed them whole. _For now._ He tried to negotiate with his uncle. He had a lot of homework to do. The last thing he wanted to do with his remaining time at Hogwarts had been homework. However, his relatives remained adamant. His wand, books and the rest of his freakish stuff wouldn't see the light of day until he would leave this place. He shuddered to think what the Dursleys would have done to Binky if he had brought her to his relative's home. Thankfully, she was safe at the Burrow, the home of the Weasley clan. Fred and George were stilled miffed and couldn't understand what had driven him to defend the Slytherins at the end-of-year feast but he trusted them to look after her and keep her safe despite their current differences. They were his older brothers and rows between siblings were unavoidable. At least that's what he had been told.

“Boy, where is the blasted owl?”

“With friends. I know you don't like to have her in the house, so she stays somewhere else during the summer.”

“Friends? Who would like to be friends with you, freak?”, interrupted Dudley.

“Other freaks, of course, Dudley.”

This was going to be a long month. He tried his best to stay calm and composed. Showing emotions in front of his relatives had never resulted into anything but trouble. They wouldn't steal his face if he did but they would make him more miserable. He noticed a certain gleam in Uncle Vernon's eyes. One he had come to know as bad news. For him.

“Don't worry, Uncle Vernon. I will still be able to send letters to Hagrid.”

“Who?”

“The man who took me shopping last summer. I promised him to write him regularly over the summer. Every five days. I don't want him to do anything rash when he doesn't hear from me.”

A vein on his uncle's forehead popped out and his face turned slowly purple. Harry flinched slightly. He shouldn't have said that. Maybe he went a little too far this time. Harry knew he was playing a dangerous game. He knew going too far would cause much more trouble than just going along with their treatment.

“Are you threatening me, boy?”, snarled Uncle Vernon.

“No, Uncle Vernon. But I had to promise Hagrid I will write during the summer. He wants to keep an eye on me.”

When Uncle Vernon stormed into the kitchen Harry let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. _That was close. Crisis averted._

 

His list of chores reflected how close he had gotten to a catastrophe. He spent the next days slaving away in the house and the garden. The only room he didn't clean was the cupboard under the stairs despite him offering. He lamented his inability to do Magic. Over the years it had become second nature to him to use it inconspicuously while doing chores. However, with the Trace applied to him he didn't dare to use Magic. The Dursleys soon realised that it took him longer than usual to finish his tasks and their continuous snide remarks made it even more difficult to keep his anger and Magic in check. The only reason he hadn't done anything so far was that their attempts were rather crude and clumsy compared to the one's he suffered from Snape. However, he felt a lot more helpless here at Privet Drive than in Hogwarts and his continuing nightmares about the incident with the possessed Quirrel added their fair share to his frustration. He couldn't wait to leave this place behind for the summer. His invitation to spend a few weeks with Lisa and her family was one of few things which kept him sane. Harry was still pondering how to approach his relatives about him leaving in the beginning of August. He was unsure how they would react. On the one hand, they had to be eager to get rid of him but on the other hand, they didn't want him to be happy which he would be as soon as he was out of here. 

 

Gardening was the one chore he didn't mind that much. There was just something about working with living things that appealed to him. Herbology was his second favourite subject in school and he was looking forward to Care of Magical Creatures. It was a pity he had to wait another year until it was available. However, he couldn't really complain since his visits to Hagrid mostly turned into a lesson about one of Hagrid's pets. It actually made him wonder why 'Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them' was on the book list for the first year in Hogwarts. They never used it in class last year.

 

The Dursleys obviously wanted him to make up for the chores he missed while away at Hogwarts which made Harry wonder how the Dursleys had survived this year without him. When he was giving the garden shed a new coat of paint he couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched and it wasn't Dudley who had taken up the habit of lazing around in his immediate vicinity. Painting the shed actually helped with his Occlumency lessons, the only piece of Magic he was able to practise while staying with his relatives. Staring at a blank surface did wonders for clearing your mind. However, this time Harry couldn't help but wonder how to trick Dudley into finishing his work. 

 

Harry lay in bed, sore all over, and reached out to the Magic surrounding this place and dived into it, revelling in its comfort and solace. Harry felt safe for once. He had experienced a similar feeling within Hogwarts but this Magic felt more personal. It belonged to him and him alone. He was drifting off to sleep when he heard tapping at the window.  _Finally someone with whom I can have an intelligent conversation._ After he had let Binky in through the window he realised that something was seriously wrong. She was pissed.

“What's wrong, Binky?”

He couldn't make any sense out of her erratic fluttering and angry hoots and it took him some time, petting and soothing words to calm her down. 

“Binky, tell me what's wrong?”

She looked at him as if he was stupid and stretched out her leg.

“No letters? Wait, someone is stealing your letters?”

This earned him a hoot of approval.

“Do you know who did it?”

She shook her head.

“Was the thief using Magic?”

Another hoot.

“Unfortunately, there is nothing we can do right now. Are you hurt?”

A quiet screech. It took him some time to decipher it.

“I'm not asking about your pride, Binky.”

She shook her head.

“Good, you had me worried for a moment. Besides, it's not your fault. You are an exemplary post owl. I will get you something to eat.”

Another hoot.

“Fine, but just this once.”

 

Harry informed his friends of his predicament. Thankfully, he was still able to get letters out. According to Binky, every incoming mail disappeared right under her beak shortly before she arrived here. He remembered the feeling of being watched. Something was going on. He had to stay vigilant. 

 

Two weeks after returning to Privet Drive Uncle Vernon delivered the perfect opportunity for Harry to present his summer plans.

“This could be the biggest deal of my career, Petunia. The dinner party can't be anything but perfect”, said Uncle Vernon.

“Don't worry, Vernon. We will plan every detail. Nothing will go wrong”, assured Aunt Petunia.

Harry was currently finishing their dinner but even with his back turned to his relatives he was able to tell that they were looking at him. After all, Harry was the very personification of 'wrong'.

“What do we do with the boy? They don't know about him and I don't want that to change”, he asked.

“The boy will stay in his room. Out of sight”, she answered.

“Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, if I may suggest an...”, began Harry.

“Quiet, boy. This doesn't concern you”, growled Uncle Vernon.

“I could be out of the house this particular evening.”

Uncle Vernon stood up when Harry ignored him and continued.

“Vernon, wait!”, said Aunt Petunia. “What do you mean, boy?”

“A friend of mine invited me to spend a few weeks with her family. I could be gone on the day of the dinner party.”

“And why should we allow you that?”, asked Uncle Vernon.

“It was just a suggestion, Uncle Vernon. I could help Aunt Petunia with the preparation and be out of the house before they arrive. In addition, you would be rid of me for the rest of the summer.”

Harry could see the wheels turning in his Uncle's head. He was conflicted like Harry had predicted. 

“Vernon, this is important. The farer the boy is away the better. We don't want anything strange happen on that day.”

_Thank you, Aunt Petunia._ Harry suppressed his grin.  _Don't look too happy about this._

“Fine, but if you put one toe out of line you will suffer. Understood?”

“Understood.”

_I love it when a plan comes together._

 

The next two weeks weren't half bad. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were too busy organising the dinner party than to bother with Harry. He got a letter from Lisa by mundane mail which vanished immediately inside his clothes. All was set for the best summer ever. On the Saturday before the dinner party the Dursleys went shopping to London leaving Harry behind with Mrs Figg. Unfortunately, her enthusiasm about her cats had returned since last summer and he spent the day looking at photos of all the cats she had ever owned. When he returned to Privet Drive his mind was reeling. Mr Tibbles had definitely a bit of Kneazle in him.

 

It was the day before his departure. Harry decided to have an early night. If he was lucky he would be finished in the early afternoon and be on his own to Lisa's home in London. He entered his room, ready to immediately crawl under the covers. Unfortunately, he had a visitor.

“Good evening”, Harry greeted the house elf. The elf was wearing a shabby pillowcase which meant that he wasn't from Hogwarts and its state indicated he wasn't from a very decent family.

“Harry Potter!”, squeaked the elf and gave a low bow. “What an honour...Dobby wanted to meet you, sir, for so long.”

_Great, a fan boy._

“Hi, Dobby. It's nice to meet you. What can I do for you?”

“Dobby has something to tell...but Dobby doesn't know where to begin...”

“The beginning is always a good starting point, Dobby. Why don't we just sit down and discuss this?”, he indicated Dobby to sit down. Instead of sitting down Dobby began to cry loudly. Harry flinched and desperately hoped the Dursleys were still in the living room watching TV. _At the highest volume possible._

“Sit down?...sit down....Dobby has never been...”

Harry had expected a reaction. House elves were hardly treated as equals in the Magical world. Most wizards and witches saw them as servants. They shouldn't be seen or heard. However, Dobby's extreme reaction indicated that he belonged to a family who treated house elves more like slaves. Harry tried his best to comfort the elf and gently forced him into a sitting position.

“Dobby, everything alright?”

“Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard like an equal”, muttered Dobby. He sounded terrified and awed at the same time when he said the last part. Dobby was probably unsure if he was allowed to say something like that at all.

“Dobby has known of Harry Potter's greatness but Harry Potter is also kind...so kind.”

“It's fine, Dobby”, Harry interrupted. He didn't want Dobby to begin wailing again. “Would you tell me the reason you are here?”

“Dobby heard that a few weeks ago Harry Potter faced He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named again and that once again he triumphed over him.”

“I wouldn't say 'triumphed'...more like escaped him again.”

“Great, kind and modest. Harry Potter is a great wizard.”

“Thanks, Dobby”, said Harry and encouraged him to continue.

“Harry Potter is a great wizard. But there are dangers even he can't overcome. Dobby has to protect Harry Potter...even if Dobby has to shut his ears in the oven door later...Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts. It isn't safe. Harry Potter will be in mortal danger.”

_No change to last year._

“Why, Dobby?”

“There is a plot. Dobby has known for months. Horrible things will happen in Hogwarts this year. But Harry Potter is too important. Harry Potter must stay safe.”

“Can you tell me anything else, Dobby?”

Dobby tried to jump up but Harry held him in place.

“It's fine, Dobby. You can't tell me. It's fine. No punishment.”

“Dobby should not be here. Dobby has to....”, mumbled Dobby, eyeing Harry's desk lamp.

“Dobby, look at me. You are here. However, you couldn't be here if your master forbade it. You didn't make a mistake. You didn't ignore an order. No punishment.”

Dobby slowly calmed down and smiled timidly

“Dobby, I'm going to ask you something. Everything is alright. Just answer. No punishment.”

Dobby nodded.

“Did you steal my mail?”

Dobby flinched and hesitated.

“Harry Potter must not be angry... but Dobby had to steal your mail, sir. Dobby hoped Harry Potter wouldn't return to Hogwarts if he thought his friends had forgotten about him.”  
 _Yes, totally nuts._

“But Harry Potter realised that his mail was stolen...So Dobby had to come...Dobby had to speak personally to Harry Potter...to warn him of the coming danger.”

Dobby took out a few envelopes.

“Harry Potter has to promise...Harry Potter must give his word that he will not return to Hogwarts. Say you will not go back, sir!”

Harry turned away from Dobby and contemplated the situation.  _Is this a prank? Or is the warning genuine? Doesn't really matter._ He looked at Dobby again.  _Dobby is totally unstable. I really don't want to know what may happen if I refuse._

“I'll be honest with you, Dobby. I have always known that a Magic school would be more dangerous than any mundane school. But after the events of last year I actually wondered if it is a good idea to return to Hogwarts. And this year doesn't seem to be safe either. But Dobby I won't give up on Magic. I can't do that.”

“Dobby would never dare to ask you to give up Magic, sir. There are other schools. Other ways...”

Dobby looked horrified.

“It's alright, Dobby. I won't give up on Magic. I will look for alternatives, for other schools. Schools better than Hogwarts. I will look for a school which is safer than Hogwarts.”

“You must promise, sir!”

“I promise.”

 

Harry couldn't sleep. Dobby's warning had left him uneasy. He really hoped the whole situation was an elaborate prank. He wanted to think someone used his house elf to mess with his head, to scare him into dropping out of Hogwarts. However, the evidence pointed into a different direction. Dobby hadn't been here on his master's order. His urge to punish himself indicated that he had found a loophole in his orders and had come to warn Harry by himself. This fact coincided with this behaviour and attire.  _Unless Dobby is an amazing actor._ A badly treated house elf rebelled against his master by trying his best to circumvent his orders. Dobby warned him.  _But why me?_ Harry wasn't very well liked among certain families because of his part in Riddle's downfall. A family who supported or even followed Riddle's ideals were not above mistreating a house elf.  _Dobby is unable to warn the authorities because this would be am act of betrayal. And he can't betray his family. But by telling me, a twelve year old boy, he circumvented his master's order. Keeping me safe, someone who stands against his master, is an ultimate act of rebellion._ Harry had to discuss this with Lisa. He had to write Professor Flitwick about this too. Harry didn't think they would believe him. After all, they had not acted on Firenze's warning either. Harry had hoped for a normal year. Harry had hoped last year was an isolated incident. If this warning turned out to genuine the coming year would have the potential to be even worse.  _Hope for the best, prepare for the worst._ Harry had promised Dobby to look for an alternative to Hogwarts. He had never promised to leave Hogwarts. However, maybe it wasn't a bad idea to change schools. He really had to talk to Lisa. If life was determined to throw him into another dangerous situation he would make the most of this summer.  _I will enjoy this summer. I will be just a normal child. Without a madman after my head and impending doom in front of me._

 


	2. Harry's First Summer

“ _She got on with her education. In her opinion, school kept on trying to interfere with it.” – Terry Pratchett, Soul Music_

 

“Hi, Mrs Turpin, I'm Harry Potter.”

“Come in, Harry, and call me Sarah. Did you have any trouble getting here?”

Lisa's mum had similar long wavy brown hair like Lisa although Sarah's was a little darker than her daughter's. The same brown doe eyes emitted the same kind of warmth which immediately put him to ease. He had been nervous about meeting Lisa's mum. Back in Little Whinging, most adults thought he was a troublemaker. The Dursleys made sure of it.

“No, not at all. The Knight Bus dropped me off round the corner.”

“Ah, yes. Pretty convenient method of transportation. Here, let me help you with your trunk.”

“Thanks. Yes, the Knight Bus is...well, let's say, if you like rollercoasters, you will definitely like the Knight Bus”, Harry joked. The ride had been bumpy.

Sarah gave him a questioning look. However, she was stopped from enquiring by a yell coming from up the stairs.

“Harry!”

Lisa bolted down the stairs and Harry found himself enveloped in a hug. Sarah began to laugh.

“Let the boy breath, Lisa. Show him his room and give him a tour through the house while I finish supper.”

“Come on, Harry”, she grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the stairs. “First stop, the entrance hall. Nothing interesting to see here.”

She led him up the stairs and to the end of the hallway.

“Second stop and the first one which is actually interesting is....drum roll...your room.”

Lisa opened the door and gestured him to enter. It was a crammed office with a sofa-bed which was already prepared for him. This room already felt more like home than his room at the Dursley's.

“I know it's nothing special”, she muttered shyly. “You will get a real bedroom once we get to Grandma.”

He grinned, completely satisfied with the arrangement.

“It's perfect. Thanks, Lisa”, Harry assured her. “This is going to be the best summer ever.”

 

The rest of the house reaffirmed Harry's assessment that it was a real home. It shared nothing with Privet Drive. His relative's home had always been generic, like something you could find inside a catalogue or store, unnaturally clean – mostly thanks to him – and cold. He knew, of course, that he was rather biased concerning Privet Drive. However, this was an actual home. It was warm, welcoming and simply lived in. Lisa and Sarah had definitely put their stamp on it. They sat down for supper and mother and daughter began to tell him about their trip to Italy this summer. They had hopped from city to city and visited both mundane and magical tourist sights.

“The most interesting museum we visited was about the magic of the ancient Romans. You would have loved it. Rituals, staffs, enchanted weapons...I knew that Binns was a horrible teacher but you would be surprised how much he forgets to mention...only because the largest part of the story happened within the mundane world...it makes me wonder how much we missed on our travels because we didn't know about magic back then”, Lisa rambled on between bites.

“Are there any magical schools in Italy?”, asked Harry. The only schools on the Continent he knew of were Durmstrang, Beauxbatons and Koldovstoretz. 

“We only heard of one. It's on an island, located somewhere in the Tyrrhenian Sea. Pretty small and pretty fancy. Don't think we could afford it.”

“How was your summer so far, Harry”, asked Sarah. Harry cringed inwardly but answered nevertheless.

“Nothing much”, said Harry, forcing a smile on his face. “It seems attending a boarding school is no excuse for missing your chores. My aunt and uncle have spend the last two weeks planning a dinner party. Uncle Vernon hopes for the biggest deal of his career. I helped with the preparations, made the house and garden presentable.”

Lisa frowned and Sarah had a thoughtful expression on her face. Lisa probably told Sarah about Harry's relationship with his relatives.

“Don't worry. The summer is only half way over. And the best part of it starts right now”, he tried to reassure them.

“So...did you find out who was stealing your letters?”, asked Lisa, trying to change the subject.

“I actually did. It was Dobby. A house elf.”

This was another topic he didn't want to discuss in its whole content in front of Sarah without Lisa's consent.

“A house elf was stealing your mail? Why?”

“I think it was supposed to be a prank. Someone was trying to mess with me. I'm not the most popular person in Hogwarts at the very moment.”

“Do you really think that? Lisa told me you earned quite some respect. Not many people would stick to their believes and confront the headmaster in front of the whole school”, congratulated Sarah, smiling at him. Harry flushed.

“What was your headmaster thinking anyway? You just don't change your mind in the middle of an award ceremony”, continued Sarah, clearly unhappy with the headmaster. There was obviously more behind her apparent dislike of the headmaster. Lisa probably had also told her about everything which had transpired last school year.

“Dumbledore obviously spends too much time in his Ivory tower”, explained Lisa and turned to Harry. “And I still think he is as as much prejudiced against Slytherin as most other Gryffindors. This just doesn't end when you leave school.”

“If this is really true, it wouldn't speak well of his competence as headmaster, would it?”, offered Sarah. “But let us return to the matter of the house elf. Should we expect another visit?”

“No, I don't think he will bother me again. I was able to convince him to stop since he was discovered anyway. It helped a lot that he doesn't seem to like his family either.”

Unfortunately, he wasn't entirely sure and it must have shown on his face since both Lisa and Sarah looked hardly convinced.

“Do you know who owns him?”, asked Lisa.

“Owns him?”, interrupted Sarah, alarmed by the choice of word. “Lisa told me house elves are intelligent and sentient creatures who are responsible for cleaning and cooking in Hogwarts. The way you talk about Dobby makes it sound like he is some kind of slave.”

“In his case you may be actually right. I don't think his family treats him very well. I have only met Hogwarts house elves so far and Dobby was nothing like them. Hogwarts house elves don't think about themselves as slaves, not even as servants. They see themselves as an essential part of Hogwarts, as part of a family, which they are. Helga Hufflepuff brought house elves to Hogwarts to protect them from abuse. She offered them proper working conditions. However, Hogwarts profits from this arrangement too. Wizards and witches tend to forget it and books fail to mention it but Hogwarts wouldn't be able to function properly without them. They take great pride in this fact. As far as I can tell, house elves are very proud beings and are easily offended. They will accept gifts. However, if you try to give them money you will piss them off. The same goes for clothes. However, if they are given clothes by their 'master', it sets them free which for most elves is the equivalent of 'your work is inadequate, you are fired'. And as I said before, they are proud of their work.”

Harry suddenly noticed their bemused expressions and stopped.

“Sorry, I'm rambling.”

“No, it's fine”, Sarah's smile widened. “You seem very passionate about house elves.”

“It's not only house elves. I mean...finding out about Magic is one thing but finding out that there are other intelligent and sentient beings in existence is an entirely different thing. House elves, goblins, centaurs...they have a different culture, an entirely different mind-set. It's fascinating. In many cases you have to twist your own mind in order to try to understand. Many things seem strange from a human point of view. For example, I was shocked and came to a similar conclusion like you when they told me that they can only have children when they are given permission. However, in their opinion, it is rude to add another elf to a household without asking the owner of said household first.”

“Who would be the owner of Hogwarts? The headmaster?”, questioned Sarah. The Dursleys tried their best to pretend that the magical world didn't exist, whereas Sarah was sincerely interested and eager to learn as much as she could. Harry wondered how other parents of Muggle-borns dealt with this new side of their children's lives.

“It's hard to tell. Hogwarts is a special case since it's sentient. I guess, she belongs to herself...or the students. The purpose of Hogwarts is educating children after all. As far as house elves are concerned, I think that the headmaster and the teachers have some authority over them since they are in charge of the school. However, I cannot tell to which extent.”

Harry really enjoyed the evening. He had a second helping and was involved in an actual conversation at the dinner table. He mentioned Magic without causing a disaster and laughed without being shushed. This place was nothing like Privet Drive. The only downside was when he realised how many things had been denied to him all his life.

 

Harry had missed the school trip to London in primary school. Back then the Dursleys had decided it was too expensive to send their nephew and he had been called in sick. Looking back, the Dursleys probably had also been afraid he would come across Diagon Alley by chance. When Harry had told Lisa back in June, she had immediately written her mother and both had agreed that it was high time to rectify this loss of experience. They had slightly altered their plans and instead of spending the entire last month of summer vacation in Devon with Lisa's grandmother, they would also take him on several sightseeing tours through London.

Next morning they took the underground from Greenwich to Trafalgar Square. The trio made their way down Haymarket to Piccadilly Circus which was just as busy as people always said it was and then rushed to The Mall to catch the Changing of the Guards. Harry couldn't help but feel a little bit disappointed. He had expected something grander since people had always said it was something you just had to see once in your life. Perhaps he expected too much. Their next stop was St. James's Park where they had lunch before walking to the Houses of Parliament. Sarah began to share the gruesome details of the aftermath of the failed Gunpowder Plot and they shared a laugh when Harry told them the name of Dumbledore's phoenix. Their tour through the City of Westminster ended in the National Gallery. Lisa had to tear away Harry from a painting he had been staring at for ten minutes straight. He could have sworn he had caught movement out of the corner of his eye.

Harry was exhausted but content. His last lesson for today was about music. Lisa chose a number of albums and they settled into the living room to listen to them. After Sarah had retired for the night Lisa broke the comfortable silence.

“I didn't want to bother you yesterday but did you skip a few details when you told us about your encounter with Dobby?”

Harry blushed. Was he really that transparent? At least, it was Lisa. She was his best friend after all.

He explained the whole event in full detail and told her his concerns.

“You don't think it could be a prank, do you?”

“No, unless Dobby is an amazing actor. Besides, after last year I'm not inclined to ignore it. It would be foolish.”

“Yes, it would be”, she agreed before voicing another thought. “Have you considered the possibility that Dobby just thinks you are in danger? You said it yourself, he is unstable. Maybe he overheard something at home and blew it out of proportion.”

“No, I haven't”, Harry admitted. “You are right. I can see Dobby doing that. I'm pretty sure enough people out there curse my name on a daily basis.”

“We will write Professor Flitwick tomorrow”, Lisa went on. “We explain the whole encounter but refrain from making any assumptions. We will leave that to him and the other teachers. If something happens, they will remember and hopefully put an end to it before things get out of control.”

_Fat chance._

“Good. I'm glad we have discussed this. Now, there is just one thing which I need to ask you.”

“Ask away!”

Lisa was his best friend. He still had an uneasy feeling about Dobby's warning. If next year turned out like last year, he would leave Hogwarts. However, he wouldn't leave her behind.

“If things turn out bad, if I decide to change school, would you consider coming with me?”

Lisa was clearly surprised. She knew Hogwarts was his first real home. The shock on her face was replaced with a sad smile.

“I can't really fault you for considering it, can I?”, Lisa chuckled humourlessly. “Unfortunately, I can't leave Hogwarts.”

“Oh.”

Seeing his reaction, she sighted and continued in a low whisper,

“Because it's mandatory for Muggle-borns to attend Hogwarts.”

“What? Why? I mean...are you sure?”

“Pretty sure. I looked it up in the library.”

“I'm sorry. I wasn't aware of it.”

“Of course, you weren't”, she growled, her anger rising. “They don't advertise it. You would be surprised how many Muggle-borns are unaware of this dirty little secret.”

Harry was taken aback. He had always thought that only a small part of the magical population was prejudiced against Muggle-borns. However, he had to admit that some forms of prejudice were so subtle you didn't even recognize them as such.

“Weird things kept happening around me for years. You should ask Mum about a few particular tantrums I threw”, she said, giving him a smile which didn't reach her eyes. “We laugh about them now but back then...we were scared. We couldn't explain it. You were on your own and still a child. It was easier for you to come to the right conclusion”, she told him.

She was right. He had been desperate to find out what was happening, to avoid punishment. It had been a stroke of luck that he had come to the right conclusion. He squeezed her hand.

“Mum and I were restricted by what we were taught to believe. We were so glad when McGonagall showed up and explained to us that I was a witch and that there was a whole society of witches and wizards. We were relieved that someone was able to teach me. However, Mum wasn't willing to just send me off to some place she knew next to nothing about. She asked questions, she wanted to see Hogwarts for herself. McGonagall said she couldn't. She asked for alternatives. McGonagall claimed that Hogwarts was one the best schools in the world. In the end she had to admit we had no choice. I had to choose a magical education and I had to choose Hogwarts. Mum's biggest fear came true in a way. I was taken to a place and she couldn't follow me.”

Lisa took a deep breath and continued,

“The Statute of Secrecy enforces the education of every witch and wizard since leaving them untrained could expose the magical world to the mundane world. Muggle-borns have to choose a magical education. Home schooling is obviously not an option.”

“And what about other magical schools?”, Harry cut her off. “Why only Hogwarts? This doesn't make any sense.”

“It doesn't make any sense from your point of view. I think most witches and wizards feel superior to Muggles...at least on some level. They rely so much on magic, they think not having magic means being helpless. According to them, we should be thankful the Ministry is considerate enough to take this difficult decision out of our hands. After all, they know better than Muggles how to educate and raise magical children. Muggles shouldn't be trusted with something like that”, she said, her voice thick with sarcasm.

“Of course, McGonagall forgot to mention that pure- and half-bloods are free to choose which school they attend. I had to find out by myself”, she ranted on.

“I actually confronted her once about it after Transfiguration”, she laughed. “We make a good team, Harry. I think the teachers haven't got a good tongue lashing in years until we two arrived.”

The first genuine smile snuck on her face since this conversation had started. Harry reacted and hugged her.

“And we will stay a team. I'm not leaving you behind.”

She leaned into the hug and mumbled,

“Thanks, Harry, but...”

“No, it's alright”, he cut her off. “Besides, I wouldn't be surprised if they use the same law to keep me in Hogwarts. After all, my guardians are Muggles too.”

“Damn. I haven't thought of that”, she exclaimed and continued more quietly,

“So, we are stuck together?”

“Yeah, we stick together.”

 

The next day started with a trip to the Tower of London. The White Tower shared great similarities with the oldest part of Hogwarts. However, since Magic wasn't involved the White Tower didn't reach its height. They even saw a ghost vanishing through a wall when they turned around a corner.

It wasn't very surprising considering the Tower's bloody history. Unfortunately, the only thing Sarah saw of the ghost was a slight flicker in the air. She knew a lot about the Tower's most famous prisoners and wondered who the ghost might have been. In the afternoon they took full advantage of the Whispering Gallery in St.Paul's Cathedral. It was hilarious. Harry wondered if there was somethings similar in Hogwarts. This time they took a boat back to Greenwich. They stayed on deck despite the weather but enjoyed it nevertheless. Back home, Harry decided to answer the letters Dobby had stolen from him.

“The Flamels replied.”

“Really? What does the letter say?”, Lisa said, not looking up from her book.

“They appreciate my apology but insist that I did them a favour. Perenelle doubts her husband would have gone through with it by himself. They even left me something at Gringotts since they didn't want to send it per owls.”

This attracted her attention.

“Wait a minute! You destroyed a precious magical artefact and they give you a present?”

Harry grinned.

“As I said, I did them a favour.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. _Very mature._

“What do you think they send?”

“No idea. Maybe books. Books are always a nice present. We will find out for sure when we go to Diagon Alley”, mused Harry while wondering how to respond to the Flamels.

“Apropos Diagon Alley, we're going to meet Mandy and Sue there on Saturday, after the British Museum”, Lisa informed him.

“You really have everything planned out, haven't you?”

“No, not everything. I haven't decided on the viewing order of the Star Wars movies. Are you sure you never seen or heard any major details about the series?”

His eduction in films was starting this evening. Harry wanted to start with The Lord of the Rings but Lisa had put her foot down and decided on Star Wars.

“Yes, I only know it's a popular science fiction film series. The Dursleys tried to keep anything from me which could have given me ideas. Besides, I'm more into fantasy.”

“This will change tonight. You will never know what hit you, Harry. And since you don't know anything about Star Wars we will start with Episode IV.”

“That doesn't make any sense.”

“Believe me, it's better this way.”

 

“Darth Vader is Luke's father?”

 

Lisa and Harry spent the next few days alternating between introducing Harry to different genres of music, while doing homework or playing board and card games, and watching several movies. Harry sometimes took over the cooking to show his gratitude for letting him stay and giving him the best summer ever. It was a lot more fun to cook for people who appreciated it. Binky showed up at Tuesday and was allowed to stay. On Friday several birders camped out in Greenwich Park to get a glimpse of a snowy owl thousands of miles away from its usual feeding grounds.

 

“Damn, it was Earth all along!”

 

Lisa and Sarah were like little children in a candy shop. They hopped from one exhibition to another, marvelling at the wonders of early and ancient history. Harry had to admit the British Museum was awesome. He could completely understand why those two visited this place as often as possible. It was stuffed with interesting things. Egyptian mummies, greek marble sculptures, drawings of Leonardo da Vinci. He wondered if any magical artefacts which had fallen through the cracks of the Ministry were displayed or if any legit ancient spell was inscribed in tablets or reliefs. _I am so taking Ancient Runes in third year._

They got through the Leaky Cauldron without any interruptions. Harry had hid his unruly mop of hair under a baseball cap, carefully covering his scar. The Magic of Diagon Alley, whirling and ever changing, greeted him as soon as he stepped through the archway. He was nearly as excited as he had been last year when he had visited Diagon Alley for the very first time. This time, however, he wasn't distracted by questions exploding in his head. Harry had things to do and he couldn't wait.

First stop was, of course, Gringotts. Harry stood patiently in front of a counter, waiting for the goblin to acknowledge him, while Lisa and Sarah exchanged their money. He would meet them later in Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour.

“Yes?”, asked the goblin, finally looking up from his ledger.

“Good day, I'm Harry Potter. I would like to withdraw money from my vault and pick up an object which was left in your care”, said Harry politely.

The goblin examined his key closely and read the note which had been send by the Flamels.

“Everything seems to be in order. Lugrast, take Mr Potter to his vault!”

Harry, looking forward to the rollercoaster ride, followed Lugrast through a door leading into the depths of Gringotts. He collected enough money for his purchases and the coming year before he returned to the surface world where another goblin waited for him. The new goblin took him through another door. They walked down a dim hallway, passing several doors until the goblin opened one at the far back. Harry found himself inside a small bare room, divided into two sections by an enormous counter. An ancient goblin with white sideburns wordlessly stretched out his hand and Harry handed him the note. The goblin vanished through the door in the back and returned a few minutes later with a strange, old-fashioned briefcase with several keyholes. Harry signed the receipt and was ushered back into the entrance hall where he exchanged part of his money into pounds.

The parlour was buzzing with people who wanted to enjoy this summer day with the proper equipment. Lisa, Mandy and Sue were already sitting at a table in the corner, waiting for their ice cream sundaes, while the adults were standing nearby, chatting among themselves. Sue saw him first and waved.

“Hi, Harry”, Sue greeted, smiling broadly. “What have you got there?”

“I think it's some kind of magical briefcase”, he said, sitting down.

“It looks like a briefcase with several compartments. Each keyhole opens a different one”, Mandy explained, examining the briefcase closely. “Incredibly useful.”

“So, what are you waiting for? Open it! Let's see what else they send you”, said Lisa, bursting with excitement.

“Who is 'they'?”, asked Mandy. “Lisa only told us someone left something for you in Gringotts.”

“The Flamels send it to me as a thank-you gift for destroying the Stone”, he said, his voice dropping to a low whisper.

“You destroy the Philosopher's Stone and the Flamels give you a present because of it?”

“That's exactly what I said”, Lisa beamed at Sue.

“Only you, Harry”, chuckled Mandy.

Their conversation was ended by the arrival of their ice cream sundaes.

“Have you heard? Gilderoy Lockhart personally is going to be our Defence against the Dark Arts Professor this year”, announced an ecstatic Mandy.

“Really? That explains why seven of his books are on the list this year”, mused Harry, eagerly waiting for his ice cream sundae. “Has anyone read one of his books already?”

“No, but I can't wait to get home”, said Mandy cheerfully. “Mum thinks we are lucky to have him as a teacher.”

“I'm looking forward to learning from someone with actual field experience”, added Sue.

“I just hope he doesn't turn out like Quirrel”, grumbled Harry.

They finished their ice cream and the trio saw Mandy, Sue and their parents off before continuing their shopping. They stocked up on parchment, quills, ink and potion ingredients before stopping by Madame Malkin's. While they were fitted for new robes they discussed Harry's next purchase.

“So, have you finally decided on a broom?”

“I think I'm going to buy a Cleansweep Seven. Less expensive than the Nimbus 2000 but of similar standard. And I have heard it's the better bad weather broom.”

“You do know that they released the Cleansweep Eight a few months ago?”

“I know but I want a broom which has proven its worth. You should never buy a new broom model within one year of its release.”

Harry had a spring in his step when they finally left Madame Malkin's. He headed straight for the Quidditch Supplies Shop. Ten minutes later Harry left the shop with a large package under his arm and a grin from ear and ear. He couldn't wait to try out his new broom. The only thing left to do was buying their books. Since Lockhart's books were anything but cheap they tried to find used copies first. Unfortunately, they were already sold out. The search, however, wasn't for nothing since Harry found several treasures within the piles of tattered books. In the end they got their books from Flourish and Blotts. Loaded with bags and packages they took the underground home. Lisa began to read 'Break with a Banshee' while Harry was browsing a magazine he discovered. It was awesome.

“What are you reading, Harry?”

“It's a wizarding tabloid called Quibbler.”

“Seriously? Why?”

“Tabloids contain the best sources of information, you should know that.”

 

“He was actually Keyser Söze!”

 

They continued their sightseeing tour on Sunday. However, it turned out more like a shopping trip through Covent garden and Oxford Street. Harry didn't complain. He finally got rid of Dudley's cast-offs and Lisa and Sarah agreed on a detour to Baker Street where he finally got a deerstalker. Harry knew it was only mentioned once in the books but he liked it nevertheless. Hats were important. He could live with Lisa teasing him mercilessly about it.

 

After reading three of Lockhart's books Harry began to wonder if Lockhart had taken the position in Hogwarts to fill his coffers. He didn't deny that the books had some educational value. They showed how Lockhart dealt with dangerous situations. They showed how he used his knowledge, tempered with creativity and cunning, to solve problems and overcome obstacles. However, his books weren't textbooks. Harry could understand assigning two or three to impart his method but seven was a bit overkill. In addition, Lockhart's obvious self-glorification left a bad taste in his mouth.

 


	3. Lisa's Surprise

“ _She heard him mutter, 'Can you take away this grief?'  
'I'm sorry,' she replied. 'Everyone asks me. And I would not do so even if I knew how. It belongs to you. Only time and tears take away grief; that is what they are for.” – Terry Pratchett, I Shall Wear Midnight_

 

Harry loved getting up early in the morning to see the sun rise over the soft hills of Devon. A giant patchwork quilt made of fields, separated by hedges and lines of trees, and small forests.There was something special about experiencing the beginning of a day, the awakening of the world, the clear air and the watercolour sky. Everything seemed so serene and peaceful, undisturbed by the comings and goings of the outside world. _Like the Shire._ He had discovered this entertainment by accident after he had woken up from a nightmare. Soon it had become one of his favourite pastimes. Harry had seen and experienced many things this summer. Only last week, he had been to the sea for the very first time in his life. He had strolled along the sandy beaches and waded through the cold waters. They had visited Dartmoor and Harry had been amazed by wide, open moorlands, tors and ancient forests. He had been standing on primeval Magic, lying under soggy and rocky grounds like a sleeping giant. It had been awe-inspiring. However, seeing the first signs of activity in the village below, a daily occurrence, wasn't any less amazing. It held the same kind of Magic like lazing in the shadow of a tree, dipping into a pond to beat the heat and running barefoot across grass and gravel. Harry treasured those moments. They were magical because they brought joy. Their Magic wasn't awe-inspiring and breath-taking but exhilarating and joyful. The little things often mattered the most. It was the best summer ever.

Harry got up from his place under the tree and returned to Grandma Margaret's little cottage. He jumped the garden fence and landed in the well-maintained garden, which was her pride and joy. The saying 'A rolling stone gathers no moos' described her perfectly. She was always buzzing around the house and garden, and although she complained about her paining back and legs in the evening, she liked being busy and active. When he entered the kitchen she was already up and making pastries. She didn't expect any guests but she prepared them just in case someone turned up. Since Lisa was still sleeping he offered her a hand and soon the whole house was filled with the scent of fresh baked goods, which attracted her attention. She was still wearing her pyjamas and rubbed the sleep from her eyes when she finally showed up in the kitchen. However, as soon as she saw that breakfast was ready, the drowsiness left her completely.

“Breakfast!”, she squealed and snatched a fresh pastry.

She took a bite and savoured the flavour, before turning to Harry.

“I have a big surprise for you today”, she said in a singsong voice.

“Really?”

“Yes. Dress casually and prepare a backpack. We will be gone most of the day”, she ordered.

Her previous excitement faded away and she smiled sadly.

“And pick some flowers. You will need flowers.”

Harry opened his mouth to ask why but Lisa shushed him.

“No more questions. Just do it”, she said, squeezing his hand. “Trust me.”

Harry still tried to find out more about this big surprise but Lisa remained tight-lipped. So Harry did as he had been told. He prepared a lunch package and got their rain coats as well as a towel while Lisa finished her breakfast. _Never leave home without a towel._ Back in his room he smuggled three books into the backpack.  He didn't dare to leave the house without any reading material either. 

“Harry”, Lisa shouted through the closed door. “You should probably wear a hat. Not the deerstalker. Something normal. And leave the books. You won't need them.”

_Crivens!_

 

“Are we taking the Knight Bus?”, Harry asked when they reached the main road.

“Yes, we are. It's the fastest way”, she pulled out her wand. “Besides, I have never travelled by Knight Bus before. I'm really looking forward to it.”

“So”, he began, trying to sound nonchalant. “Are we going to Diagon Alley?”

He failed miserably.

“Not telling”, giggled Lisa.

“Hogsmeade?”, he continued.

“Stop!”, she laughed, punching him in the arm. “Just stop. Don't ask questions! Don't even think about it!”, she told him sternly. “When the Knight Bus arrives, cover your ears. I don't want you to know where we are going.”

She raised her wand. The sudden and noisy appearance of the purple triple-decker bus made Lisa jump. Harry, already familiar with its accompanying noise, didn't react but grinned, which earned him another punch in the arm. When the conductor began his little speech he covered his ears and turned away. After a while Lisa tapped him on the shoulder and they entered. Harry didn't waste any time and pushed Lisa into the nearest seat and plunged into the one next to it.

“Hold on tight”, he told her before pressing himself into the chair and grabbing the armrests.

 

“This was awesome!”, Lisa stated with wide eyes and flushed face. “It was like bumper cars. With chairs.”

“Bumper cars?”, Harry asked absent-mindedly. He was surveying their surroundings. His curiosity had finally gotten the better of him and he was looking for clues. The Knight Bus had dropped them off on the outskirts of a village.

“Oh, sorry. It's an amusement park attraction. You are driving little electrically powered cars around a fenced off area and bump into other cars.”

“That explains the name. Sounds like fun.”

They were standing on an asphalt road. On their right side, a meadow with a few trees sloped down to a sluggish river. To their left, a few cottages stood along the road.

“...combined with the acceleration of a rollercoaster:”

“Like I said.”

In the distance a bridge led over the river and right to the heart of the village.

“Are you even listening?”, asked a slightly amused Lisa.

“I'm sorry”, he answered sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. “I couldn't help myself.”

“You are impossible”, Lisa rolled her eyes. “Do you know where we are?”

“I'm not sure”, he mused and pointed out the asphalt road. “Obviously, we are in the mundane world. However, I can feel Magic. It's subtle. Almost shy. But it's there.”

“You are on the right track”, Lisa grinned and a mischievous gleam entered her eyes. “Come on. I'll race you to the bridge.”

She gave him no chance to reply and ran off towards the village.

“Wait, that's cheating”, he cried indignantly before he gave chase. Lisa's victory dance was a sight to behold.

Houses stood close together on both sides of the narrow road, seamlessly merging into each other. Most of them were made of grey bricks, their roofs covered with grey tiles. The only sources of colour were dozens of flower boxes and pots, standing on window ledges and doorsteps, as well as green bushes crawling up the house walls. A small square was at the end of the road. An obelisk stood in the middle of it, enveloped in complex illusions. Lisa grabbed his hand and dragged him towards it. Suddenly the obelisk transformed into a statue of three people. Harry got the necessary, final clue, but his brain felt too numb to make the connection. A family of three was sitting comfortably together. Two young adults and a little child in his mother's arms. Happy and united. He recognised them from the pictures in his photo album, which he had gotten from Hagrid.

“We are in Godric's Hollow”, he whispered.

This place had once been his home before Riddle had killed his parents. The last resting place of Lily and James Potter. The numbness spread through his whole body. Suddenly Harry was glad Lisa kept their trip to Godric's Hollow a secret. He wasn't sure he wouldn't have bailed if he had known before.

“I hope you like the surprise. I wasn't sure since the place is rather ambiguous and I can't possible know how it makes you feel, but I think you need this”, Lisa squeezed his hand.

“Thanks, Lisa”, he squeezed back. “Thank you for bringing me here. It's a nice surprise.”

“I know it shouldn't be me bringing you here. It should be someone who knew them”, Lisa continued.

She was referring to Remus' reluctance to meet him over the summer. Lisa found it strange. Harry tried to understand. Maybe it was still too painful for him. Harry looked a lot like his dad.

“No”, he stated firmly. “I'm glad it's you. I wouldn't want anyone else with me today.”

They stood in front of the statue in silence.

“It's nice to see that the real heroes are honoured here”, he sighted. “The books hardly mention them. It's not right.”

“Do you want to visit their grave?”, Lisa asked after a while.

“The flowers”, Harry realised. “You really planned everything.”

“That's me”, she chuckled.

Harry looked at his parents' faces on last time before tearing himself away. They crossed the street and headed towards the graveyard. The tombstones right behind the church were ancient. They were covered in moos and lichen, some were completely covered in vines. After being exposed to the elements for centuries, they were fissured and crooked and their inscriptions were hardly legible. They found a few familiar surnames. Bowen Wright was buried here. A golden snitch was engraved in his tombstone. Members of the Abbot and Dumbledore family were also laid to rest here. In the end, they found the grave of his parents. The white marble stood out like a sore thump. The inscription was clear as day. Their names, the dates of their birth and death and... _The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

“I wonder who arranged the funeral”, Harry frowned.

“You don't like the inscription?”, Lisa asked gently.

“I don't like the notion of Death being an enemy. He is not the end of life, but a part of it. He isn't cruel...”, Harry cracked a smile. “Merely terribly, terribly good at his job.”

“Seriously, Harry, stop!”, Lisa tried to suppress a giggle. “Only you.”

The mood turned glum. A heavy load settled into Harry's stomach and an uncomfortable heat spread through his body. The statue had been bad enough. It had made him feel empty and numb. It had made him think of the family he had lost and didn't even remember. However, their grave confronted him with an undeniable fact. He had known it for years, but he had never truly realised it.

“I'm going to look around a bit. Take your time. If you need something just call.”

Harry was at a loss about how to continue. He settled on a cliché.

“Hi, Mum. Hi, Dad”, Harry began. “I'm sorry it took so long. But the Dursleys couldn't be bothered to bring me here. My best friend brought me here though. Her name is Lisa. You would like her. She knows how much I need and want this. It's weird but she sometimes understands me better than I understand myself.”

Harry laughed awkwardly and rubbed away the first tears. He hadn't cried in years.

“I spent the last weeks with her family. They are great. Her mother and grandmother treat me like I'm part of the family. It feels nice.”

_The Dursleys have never made me feel like that._ Thinking about Lisa and her family added another set of feelings to the whirlwind of emotions. Happiness, envy and anger. Harry didn't know what to feel anymore. 

“I'm in Ravenclaw by the way. I hope that's okay. _Since I'm not in Gryffindor like you were._ My first year in Hogwarts was rather exciting. My grades are acceptable. I could have done better, but exploring the castle was cutting into my study time. As far as I have been told, I think you would approve, Dad. Sorry, Mum.”

The tight knot in his stomach slowly untangled itself and Harry felt the tears running down his face.

“I heard lots of stories about you. Hagrid, McGonagall, Remus, Slughorn. They told me how smart and talented you were. How kind. _How brave._ They miss you and...I miss you too. _Even though I don't remember you_ ”, Harry began to sob.

“Why did you leave me? Why did you have to die? I know you two were brave and fought for a better world. But you had a child. You should have run”, Harry accused angrily. “I know you both gave your life to protect me and I'm thankful for it. Always will be. But why?”

Harry had fallen to his knees and was unable to continue his tirade. He felt Lisa hugging him while he cried. _I love you._

 

The mood was subdued when Lisa and Harry had lunch in the park right next to the church. Harry was deep in thought and Lisa stole worried glances at him from time to time.

“How can you miss someone you don't even remember?”, Harry suddenly asked.

“I don't know. They are your parents. They are part of you and will never entirely leave you. You don't have to remember them to know they loved you with all their heart. They protected you with their life.”

She moved closer to him.

“But remember that you are not alone. You have a family. Not by blood but nevertheless a family. Me, Mum, Grandma, the Twins, maybe even Moon. We are here for you.”

“Thanks. This day is more exhausting than expected”, he laughed, rubbing his eyes again. “Let's finish this and go exploring.”

They crossed the square and headed down a different road. Instead of standing close together, the cottages down this road were surrounded by gardens. Bare stone was replaced with plaster. Beautiful timber-framed houses appeared.

“Did you bring your copy of 'History of Magic'?”, Harry said, trying to get his mind off the graveyard.

“Yes”, Lisa answered hesitantly. “Look, I won't go from house to house looking for her. But if we come across her I will ask her. Stop grinning.”

He received a punch in the arm. The mood lightened.

“I'm not judging. I was ecstatic when I found personal notes of the Flamels inside the portable library. And Bathilda Bagshot is an amazing magical historian. If I had known before I would have brought my own copy. Lisa?”

Lisa was looking ahead, ignoring him.

“Look, Harry. It's over there”, she pointed out. “The one at the edge of the forest.”

The cottage was almost entirely overgrown with ivy. The surrounding hedge was wild and untamed. When they finally reached the cottage's front gate, Harry and Lisa were able to see the damage. The entire right side of the first floor was blown apart. Part of the roof structure was uncovered and the broken rafters looked like splintered bones. The rubble was scattered around the overgrown garden. Harry shuddered. The house felt like a corpse. He checked the rusty gate. As soon as he touched it, a sign grew out of the ground, describing the events of the fateful Halloween.

“Look, people have signed it. Do you have a sharpie?”, Lisa asked eagerly.

After they left their mark, Harry prepared to climb over the fence.

“You are going inside? Harry, it doesn't look particularly safe”, Lisa warned.

“Just a quick peek”, Harry said and swung himself over the gate.

Lisa relented and followed.

“I miss the days when I was the one dragging us into adventures”, she mumbled.

They made their way through the high grass, avoiding the stinging nettles, and pried open the door. Harry had expected a battle field, but as soon as his eyes were accustomed to the darkness inside, he was proven wrong. The cottage showed clear signs of abandonment. The walls and ceiling were stained and mouldy, the ground uneven. However, anything else was still in place, with the exception of a few picture frames, which had fallen off the wall sometime in the past. Harry picked up one of them. There was a picture of his parents in Hogwarts robes, cuddling under a tree.

“They never bothered to pack up your things?”, Lisa was appalled. “This is your inheritance. Things of sentimental value.”

“My grandparents were already dead. Both maternal and paternal. Peter Pettigrew died, Sirius Black went to prison and Remus....He just lost his whole family.”

“What about Dumbledore? Your parents were in his Order.”

“He was probably too busy back then or he didn't feel responsible. It would have been nice though.”

The cottage had been abandoned over night and had been left alone ever since.

“Besides, do you feel it? Close your eyes and tell me what you feel.”

Lisa followed his instruction and closed her eyes.

“I feel uncomfortable”, she said after a minute and shivered.

“You can still feel what happened here. It is like a lingering sickness. The place isn't malicious but it's corrupted and tainted. People feel it and they don't like it.”

They went into the living room. There was a thick layer of dust on the furniture. However, like the rest of the cottage it was untouched. Harry examined the book shelves.

“I think we should take a few keepsakes. Some of them look salvageable. If you find something you want, just take it.”

They began to browse the shelves, looking for books, which were both interesting and well preserved. Harry just picked up a book on agriculture when he noticed Lisa crouching on the floor.

“What are you doing on the ground?”

“Things always end up under the couch, where you can hardly reach them”, Lisa said matter-of-factly. “Look, I was right.”

Lisa retrieved a small, dusty book.

“What is it?”

“It looks like a journal”, she opened it.”'The Marauder's Guide to Mischief'. Sounds like something your father would make.”

She handed him the book and Harry turned the page.

_Dear Son,_

_I wish you a happy 11 th birthday. We are currently in hiding and I'm terribly bored. Your mother suggested to write some kind of journal for you, filled with stories and useful knowledge of our Hogwarts years. She is already regretting it. She is afraid I will encourage you to get into trouble. _

_In order to appease your mother, this books is not only filled with information on how to play pranks but also on how to get away with it. You will be the usual suspect (sorry for that), so be careful. However, if you learn this book's content by heart, even Aunt Minnie won't be able to trace certain incidents back to you. I will also add a few shortcuts and secret tunnels since Uncle Wormtail has lost the Map. My last piece of advice is to find some friends and play some pranks, but don't forget to study hard and give your best. Or your mother will have my hide._

_Love,_

_Dad_

“Today is definitely one of the best and worst days of my life.”

They packed a few books and pictures before searching the rest of the ground floor. Harry also wanted to check the first floor, but Lisa put her foot down and forbade it. Harry reluctantly agreed. The first floor had been exposed to wind and weather for a decade, so there was no knowing how unstable it actually was. Instead, they looked through the garden and examined the rubble. Harry hoped some things, which had been stored in the attic, survived the explosion. Lisa actually stumbled upon his mother's trunk. However, it had burst open and its contents were scattered around and hardly undistinguishable from the ground. They finally decided to leave the property. Harry climbed over the gate first and helped Lisa over it.

“How dare you?”, a harsh voice shouted behind them. “How dare you to rummage through the Potter's home?”

Lisa and Harry turned and came face to face with a furious, old woman with thin, white hair.

“Have you no respect? They were heroes. They ended the war. And how do you thank them?”

Both children were at a loss for words. The fuming woman was an intimating figure despite being hardly bigger than them.

“And have you any idea how dangerous it is? The house has been abandoned for a decade.”

Lisa suddenly let out a squeal, which stopped the old woman's rant. Before she was able to start anew, Lisa snatched Harry's cap from his head. The woman immediately recognized him and took a sharp breath. The look on her face mellowed and her eyes became teary.

“I'm so sorry, Harry. I thought you two were some random kids rummaging through the cottage”, she smiled. “I can't really fault you for trying to find out more about your past. I have spend my entire life connecting to the past after all”, she chuckled. “Why don't we continue this conversation back at my home over tea?”

 

Half an hour later, Lisa and Harry were sitting in Bathilda Bagshot's backyard. She had served tea and scones and had vanished into her cottage. She hadn't returned yet.

“That's an interesting turn of events”, Harry declared.

Bathilda Bagshot had alternated between scolding them and talking about the importance of knowing where you had come from.

“Are you kidding? We are having tea with Bathilda Bagshot, the most celebrated magical historian of the twentieth century. This is amazing.”

“Don't forget to get her autograph”, Harry chuckled at Lisa's starstruck behaviour.

Professor Bagshot finally returned and handed Harry a picture. It showed her, holding a little Harry in her arms.

“It was taken at your first birthday. It was a quiet affair, just your parents, me and you. They were already in hiding back then”, she took a sip of her tea.

“Did you know them well?”, Harry asked curiously.

“I was good friends with your grandparents. And I knew your father rather well since he grew up here in Godric's Hollow. That's how I recognised you. You are the spitting image of your father. Besides, you are definitely a Potter with this mob of black hair. Potter hair is wild and has a mind of its own. It refuses to grow beyond a certain length and it doesn't like to be cut. Generations of Potters tried to tame it but failed miserably. It was actually your grandfather Fleamont, who finally managed it. He was a tab hand at Potions and made a fortune by selling the Sleekeazy's Hair Potion company.”

“This explains why every visit to the hairdresser proved to be futile”, Harry joked.

“I remember a particular incident. Your father was around sixteen when he managed to completely singe his hair off. Merlin knows what he was doing. It grew back over night”, she chuckled and reached for a scone. “Your father was a little brat. I can't really fault your grandparents for spoiling him. He was a miracle child after all. However, he grew out of it. He became a sensible and respectable young man. All thanks to your mother. She evened him out. Lily was an intelligent young woman. Kind and passionate. When your parents went into hiding she threw herself into research. She was dealing with the situation a lot better than your father. He was like a caged animal. We became friendly with each other. I guess, we both needed the company and she was kind enough to listen to the rambling of an old woman. I was a regular visitor, one of the few, who knew where they were hiding.”

“Wasn't Godric's Hollow a rather obvious hiding place?”, questioned Lisa.

“Of course it was”, she admitted. “The cottage was built by William Potter, your 3rd great-grandfather, and many Potters lived in Godric's Hollow ever since. However, your parents were hiding under the Fidelius charm. To my shame, I must admit I had never heard of it until then. The Fidelius charm is an extremely old and powerful charm, used to hide a secret inside a person's soul. This person would be called a Secret Keeper. The only one who can reveal the secret to others. Your parents used it to hide your home. A location, which is hidden under this charm, can't be found unless the Secret Keeper reveals it. I had completely forgotten that the Potters ever lived here until Lily handed me a piece of parchment with their location on it. Unfortunately, they put their trust in the wrong person.”

She grew quiet. Her eyes were distant and she looked very old.

“I could never forget this night”, she continued in a whisper. “A wave of magic woke me up with a start. I just knew something bad had happened. Since I knew your parents were a target I became agitated and left the house to check. Not many people would have done it. We were at war. Dark times, I tell you. However, I am a nosy, old woman and there isn't much left to be afraid of. When I saw the gaping hole on the first floor I rushed back and contacted Dumbledore. Fifteen minutes later, Hagrid arrived by portkey. I stayed inside. I just couldn't bear seeing another family torn apart. However, when he returned he was holding a crying, little boy in his hands”, she smiled at Harry. “You had survived. Your parents were killed, but you were alive. And there was no trace of You-Know-Who. It was a miracle. Hagrid contacted Dumbledore and he sent Madame Pomfrey to check you over. Madame Pomfrey even dropped her wand when she realised you had been hit with the Killing curse and survived. We were all shocked. Hagrid stayed here since he couldn't fly you to your relatives in broad daylight. I tried to put you back to sleep, but you wouldn't stop crying. It was heartbreaking. Since the Fidelius charm had fallen everybody was able to see your home. Muggles were already swarming the place and it didn't take long for Ester Fortescue to show up on my doorstep, trying to find out what had happened. She was a terrible gossip and Hagrid of course was eager to tell the story. She died the following year. Telling the whole Wizarding world what had happened here took its toll”, she muttered sarcastically.

“How did the Fidelius charm fail? You said that unless the Secret Keeper shares the information, you are unable to see it.”

“Intent, dear. The Fidelius hid the location, but it was cast to protect the Potters. When James and Lily died the purpose was lost and the charm failed.”

“I read that Sirius Black had a part in my parent's death. Was he the Secret Keeper?”

“I'm afraid so, Harry. Only the Secret Keeper was able to betray them. I still can't believe that Sirius did it. I knew him. He ran away from home when he was sixteen. The Blacks were fanatic believers in pure-blood supremacy and he couldn't bear it anymore. Your grandparents took him in and treated him like a son. He and James were like brothers. Nobody could see the betrayal coming. I always thought they would rather die than betray the other”, she sighted. “Everyone is wearing masks and some masks never fall.”

She poured herself another cup of tea and continued,

“It was the same with Gellert. He was such a charming young man. I would have never thought he was capable to commit such crimes. In hindsight, I should have seen it. Gellert was highly ambitious and he had little regard for people he considered beneath him. A dangerous combination.”

“Pardon me, Professor Bagshot. But who are you talking about?”

“My grand-nephew. Gellert Grindelwald. He visited me here in Godric's Hollow after he had been expelled from Durmstrang. Should have known back then. Durmstrang was rather lenient. He must have done something terrible. He came here to study folklore. I never bothered with it. Too much fiction intermingled with hardly any facts. He and Albus became good friends. Albus had planned to travel the world, but after the loss of his mother Kendra, he was obliged to care for his younger siblings, Aberforth and Ariana. Especially Ariana. She was a frail and delicate thing. Albus wanted to see the world, but now he was stuck here. For someone as brilliant and talented as Albus, it was like a punishment. Gellert's presence, however, challenged him and eased his burden. They were kindred spirits. They spent hours hours discussing their ideas and were constantly writing letters to each other. I think I have still some of them lying around. Excuse me a moment.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “It has long been an axiom of mine that the little things are infinitely the most important.” – Arthur Conan Doyle, The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes
> 
> “Despite rumour, Death isn't cruel - merely terribly, terribly good at his job.” – Terry Pratchett, Sourcery
> 
>  
> 
> One of most interesting Slytherin Harry fanfictions I have read. Unfortunately, it hasn't been updated for a while.  
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/9555569/chapters/21605777


	4. Hampered Homecoming

“ _Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colours. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” – Terry Pratchett, A Hat Full of Sky_  
  


Their visit to Godric's Hollow had been exhausting, both physically and mentally. They returned in the evening, loaded with keepsakes, after spending hours listening to Bathilda's stories. Harry's heart went out to the old woman. She had looked so happy when Lisa and Harry had promised to visit her again as soon as possible. They decided to write her from time to time. Harry went to bed right after dinner, but sleep evaded him. The events of this day made his mind swim. He tossed and turned, but his mind kept on drifting back to his parents, Black and Dumbledore; to unconditional love, betrayal and the greater good. In the end, he remembered a reliable method for falling asleep. He imagined himself sitting inside the History of Magic classroom and listening to Binns, droning on about Elfric the Eager.

 

Grandma Margaret was a big help in sorting out his feelings. The passing of her husband had left her in a similar disarray of emotions and Harry was glad to be able to share his feelings with her. Visiting his parents' grave and his old home had been cathartic. His buried anger was replaced with the firm conviction that his parents had loved him dearly and his grief receded into sorrow.

When Sarah returned to bring them back to London, they prepared a huge feast. All four of them took part in the cooking and the dining table was groaning under the weight of several dishes. They laughed and joked throughout the whole meal and spent the rest of the evening playing games in the living room. They left Devon in the next morning. Grandma Margret had gifted Harry three pairs of thick, woollen socks to keep his feet warm in the old, draughty castle. _One can never have enough socks._ Back in London, Lisa and Harry packed their trunks and made sure they hadn't forgotten anything. They spent their last day of summer enjoying the comforts of modern technology, something they would have to leave behind when they returned to Hogwarts. Most of all, Harry would miss listening to music, mundane music to be precise. While the Wizarding world provided its fair share of alternative music, the wireless stations in magical Britain were rather conservative, offering such music only an hour a day. Harry would have to find a way to introduce Hogwarts to mundane Rock. If Muggles were able to receive  wireless channels it should be possible to receive mundane radio channels via the wireless. It was too bad there were hardly any books about combining Muggle technology with Magic.

Harry was looking forward to returning to Hogwarts. He missed the castle. He missed hunting for hidden rooms, his talks with Hat and having tea with Hagrid. Most of all, he missed doing Magic. _Blasted Trace!_ However, for the first time in his life, part of him didn't want the summer to end. Harry would miss Sarah and Grandma Margret and he was still nervous because of Dobby's warning. On the 1st September, they left for King's Cross pretty early to avoid the rush on platform nine and three-quarters. When they finally arrived Harry volunteered to go first and rushed towards the barrier, separating the magical and the mundane world. However, instead of vanishing through it, he collided with the metal barrier, lost control of his trolley and landed on the floor, half buried under his trunk. Even the charms on the entrance didn't prevent the Muggles noticing the accident. Thankfully, Binky was already on her way to Hogwarts. Otherwise, Harry would never hear the end of it. Under further investigation, the gateway proved to be closed and solid. The trio settled themselves further away, hoping the malfunction would be remedied shortly. When several Hogwarts students passed through the entrance without difficulties they tried again, only to slam once again into an impenetrable barrier. 

“It just worked a minute ago. What is going on?”, Lisa said frantically.

At this point, Harry was slowly getting suspicious. He touched the barrier and concentrated. The barrier was frozen. It didn't react at all. As far as he could tell, there was nothing wrong with it. No trace of foreign Magic. No jinx, hex or curse. It was closed, inactive.

“Try again without me near it”, Harry suggested, pulling his trolley away from the barrier.

Once Harry had returned to their seats, Lisa tentatively reached out and, just as Harry had suspected, her hand immediately vanished through the barrier. She retracted her hand and gestured Harry to come back. The barrier became solid again.

“It seems I'm the problem. Someone really doesn't want me back at Hogwarts.”

_Stupid, maniac elf._

“Do you think Dobby is responsible for this?”, Lisa asked as if she had heard his thoughts.

“Most likely. He already tried to keep me from going back. He could have tried again.”

Lisa and Sarah entered the platform without him and informed the train conductor of the issue. The man looked rather disgruntled. However, he became curious when Harry demonstrated the unusual behaviour of the barrier. He moved his wand in complicated patterns and prodded the entrance with his fingers.

“Strange”, the train conductor murmured. “I've never seen something like this before. The barrier seems fine.”

The train conductor eyed Harry critically and repeated his examination with Harry. Harry tensed when the foreign Magic washed over him.

“I can't find the cause for this”, he stated and stroked his moustache absent-mindedly. “I would have to contact the Ministry. However, by the time they show up and fix it, the train will have already left for Hogwarts.”

“So I have to find another way to Hogwarts this year?”

“I'm afraid so, Mr Potter. You should also let a professor check you over for any jinxes when you arrive. I'm not an expert. Whoever did this knew what they were doing. The entrance closes as soon as you come near it”, he mused. “Some prank.”

“Perhaps you fell victim to a Nurikabe. They are known to block paths”, suggested a serene voice, coming from behind him.

Harry turned around and almost knocked over a girl, who was standing close to him. She had waist length, dirty blonde hair and silvery, grey eyes, which were fixed on Harry. She looked rather surprised. Harry thought for a moment before he replied,

“I don't think so. At least, I've never heart of a Nurikabe blocking an entrance. They usually appear on roads. And at night.”

She stared at him. He stared back.

“Maybe it's confused or more likely was changed by the Ministry. The Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures has been experimenting on spirit beings to exploit their abilities for some time. Daddy is currently writing an exposé on their unethical practises”, she continued.

“Shush, Luna. We wouldn't want them to find out that we are on to them, would we?”, admonished the man behind her.

He had similar dirty blonde hair, but his hair was fluffy and framing his face like clouds.

“Xenophilius Lovegood, Mr Potter”, he introduced himself. “And this is my daughter Luna. It's her first year in Hogwarts”, he said proudly.

“It's very nice to meet you, sir. And you too, Luna”, Harry greeted them both. “I've just discovered your magazine, but I'm already a huge fan. I'm looking forward to the next issue.”

“Believe me, Mr Potter, you will enjoy it. I was given new information by an unnamed source, which sheds more light on the mysterious illness of Nobby Leach.”

“Excuse me”, the train conductor interrupted. “Mr Potter, would you mind moving aside? Your presence is still blocking the entrance”, he explained, gesturing to incoming students and parents.

“I'm sorry”, Harry apologized, pushing his trolley away from the entrance. “I should move on. It was nice meeting you, Mr Lovegood. See you in Hogwarts, Luna.”

_They are weird. I like them._

 

Given the option between the Knight Bus and the Floo Network, Lisa chose the latter, since they had never tried it before. They had lunch at the Leaky Cauldron and asked Tom for assistance. Unfortunately, Tom had already recognized Harry by then and wasn't very subtle about him helping the Boy-Who-Lived. Harry cursed inwardly when he shook the hands of several people and wondered if the Boy-Who-Lived's first travel by Floo powder would make the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow.  _At least Doris Crockford isn't here right now._ Tom demonstrated how it works by transporting their trunks to the Three Broomsticks Inn in Hogsmeade. The additional package would make travelling unnecessarily more difficult. The patrons were kind enough to give them some privacy when it was time to say good bye. 

“Stay safe and don't work too hard”, Sarah said, hugging Lisa.

“Don't worry, Mum. Harry will take care of both matters”, Lisa chuckled, hugging her mother more tightly.

“The same goes for you, young man”, she turned to Harry and enveloped him in a hug.

“Thanks for the best summer ever, Sarah”, he murmured.

“You're welcome, Harry. And don't forget to write. I expect a letter a week. I don't care who of you two writes, but keep me informed.”

Huge, green flames erupted in the fireplace and Tom stepped out, absent-mindedly removing the soot from his apron.

“Ready?”, Tom asked and the two children nodded.

“Remember, you must speak clearly”, he advised. “Or you might get lost.”

“Keep your elbows tucked in”, instructed a wizard in the growing crowd.

“Shut your eyes in the beginning”, a witch with a pipe suggested. “The spinning might upset your stomach.”

“But make sure they're open as soon as you slow down”, her friend added. “You don't want to miss the right grate.”

“Stay calm and don't fidget. Madam Rosmerta is waiting at your stop. You can't overlook her”, Tom continued.

“No man can”, another wizard joked, which earned him a round of laughter and a vicious jab into the stomach by his female companion.

Lisa didn't hesitate. She was eager to try it out. She gave Sarah one last hug before taking a pinch of Floo powder and throwing it into the fireplace. She confidently stepped into the roaring, green fire, called out the destination and vanished in a blink of an eye. Harry followed suit. However, when he took a deep breath to steel himself he swallowed a lot of hot ash, causing him to cough when he called out the destination. He was sucked into the green flames and began to spin uncontrollably. He closed his eyes but the damage had already been done. He was beginning to feel sick. In retrospect, having lunch right before taking a dive into a fire vortex was a really bad idea. Harry forced his eyes open when he began to slow down. He hurtled past dozens of fireplaces and tried to catch a glimpse of the room beyond. His eyes began to water, his stomach twisted. He couldn't wait to spot Lisa and Madam Rosmerta, waiting for him. He couldn't wait for it to stop. Suddenly he ceased moving and crashed face first into a cool surface. He remained lying there until his ears stopped ringing. He hadn't even realised how loud Floo travel was.

“Are you alright, boy?”, a gruff voice asked.

Harry stood up shakily, a hand steadied him by grabbing his arm. He looked up. A strangely familiar, old man was peering down on him.

“Not really”, Harry answered truthfully.

“First time travelling by Floo, Mr Potter?”, the man whispered, handing Harry his cap, which had fallen off during his rough landing.

“What gave me away?”, Harry asked cheekily.

His stomach had finally moved back to its usual place.

“Your broken glasses are a dead giveaway”, the man answered, his beard twitching.

Harry frowned and took off his glasses. There was a large crack in the left lens. _Great. New glasses and already broken._ The old man, however, pulled his wand out of his apron and tapped his glasses. The crack sealed itself. _Right...Magic._

“Thanks, sir”, Harry smiled.

He looked around the dingy, dim pub. A few people were present, nursing their drinks in front of them and paying no heed to him. Harry wondered if they had reacted to his entrance at all.

“Where am I exactly?”, Harry asked, hoping he was still in Hogsmeade.

“In the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade”, the man answered. “I gather you should be somewhere else?”

“My friend is in the Three Broomsticks”, Harry replied. “I should probably find her before she starts to worry.”

“Go down the alley, then turn left. The Three Broomsticks is a few houses down the main road on the right side. You can't miss it”, he explained promptly.

“Thanks, Mr Dumbledore.”

Harry had finally found out why the old man seemed so familiar. Bathilda had mentioned that Aberforth Dumbledore ran the Hog's Head. Mr Dumbledore looked surprised. He obviously hadn't expected Harry to know him and Harry had to admit he wouldn't have noticed his resemblance with the headmaster without knowing that Aberforth owned the pub. They shared the same piercing, blue eyes and massive beards. The headmaster, with his long, silver beard and his colourful attires, looked like an eccentric wizard, right from the pages of Harry's treasured fantasy books. Aberforth, however, had stringy grey and rather wild hair and dressed more casually. Harry felt reminded of Uncle Alp. Aberforth gave him a short nod and Harry left the pub.

“Thanks again, sir”, Harry called back, before adding, “I couldn't have fallen out a better wrong fireplace.”

 

“Where were you?”, Lisa questioned as soon as he was in earshot. “How do you turn everything into some kind of adventure?”, she continued.

“I'm sorry. Got out at the wrong grate”, Harry tried to calm her. “Came out in the Hog's Head.”

“Mum and Tom are still waiting for our response”, she said, dragging him towards the Three-Broomsticks.

The Three Broomsticks was far more lively and frequented than the Hog's Head. It was a bright and friendly place. Clean and polished surfaces, gleaming tankards and warm glow of candles. They were greeted by blonde witch with a pretty face. Harry understood now what the man in the Leaky Cauldron had meant. Nobody was able to overlook her.

“You found him?”, she asked with a smile on her face.

“Yes, he landed in the Hog's Head.”

“Really? You could have done worse. Abe is a nice guy if you look past his odd and gruff demeanour. I'm going to call Tom that both of you have finally arrived”, she turned towards the fireplace.

“She offered to contact the school for us but I convinced her that we would do it ourselves”, Lisa explained, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

“What are we checking out first?”, Harry smirked.

“Honeydukes. Just because we missed the train doesn't mean we don't get to eat sweets”, she smacked her lips.

“We also have to go to Zonko's. The Twins talk about the place a lot. And maybe a trip to the Shrieking Shack. I want to know what all the fuss is about”, Harry said, opening the door and stepping outside.

“We shouldn't spend too much time in Hogsmeade. Otherwise they might ask questions why we didn't contact them sooner”, Lisa sighted.

“Don't worry. It's our first time in Hogsmeade. They can't expect us to find the post office right away”, Harry suggested and grinned.

“I like the way you are thinking, Harry.”

 

They spent two hours searching the village until the finally found the post office and sent an owl to Professor Flitwick explaining their situation. Lisa and Harry returned to the Three Broomsticks, tucked away their purchases and ordered a round of Butterbeer. When the professor showed up, Lisa and Harry had already emptied three bottles each.

“Good day, Professor Flitwick”, Lisa called out. “I hope you had a pleasant summer.”

“I had, Miss Turpin. I actually hoped it would last a few hours more”, the professor said with a slight smirk.

“It's not our fault, sir. The barrier wouldn't let Harry on the platform”, Lisa defended themselves. “And I couldn't leave him alone. Who knows what he would have done without me?”

Harry sent her a glare.

“The train conductor can verify our story if you don't believe us, Professor”, Harry challenged.

“Don't worry, Mr Potter. Most of the staff believes you. However, some still have doubts about your description of events. Hagrid was instructed to ask the train conductor about the incident. Just to be sure”, he assured.

“Are we in a hurry, Professor?”, Lisa enquired. “If not, would you like something to drink? It's Harry's treat.”

“I think there is enough time for one drink before we head back to the castle”, the small professor pondered aloud. “Madam Rosmerta, cherry syrup and soda with ice and don't forget the umbrella.”

Professor Flitwick shared a few stories of his time in professional duelling. He was most interested in Lisa's trip to Italy and the Magic of the ancient Romans. Harry and Lisa also told him about their days in London and Devon. Madam Rosmerta joined them when they ordered the next round and they had a fun time until Professor Flitwick decided it was high time to return to the castle. They left the inn and their Head of House led them round the corner, where a black carriage was waiting. A skeletal, winged horse was harnessed to it. Hagrid had told him about this creatures. He had always been immensely proud of his trained herd. However, he had missed to mention that the school carriages were pulled by them. Harry could see why Thestrals had a bad reputation. Their whole appearance resembled something the anthropomorphic personification of Death would use as a mount. _At least if he didn't have Binky._ The Thestral's body was that of a horse. However, there was something reptilian about it. Its vast, leathery wings increased the resemblance to a dragon or flying dinosaur. The coat was transparent and every bone was visible under its smooth, black skin. The Thestral's long, black mane covered one of its white, pupil-less eyes. Its stare was unsettling, almost lifeless. _Combine all that with the fact that only people, who have seen death, can see them and you have the very embodiment of death._ Harry reached out and let the Thestral sniff his hand. He cautiously began to pet it. Appearances can be deceiving. The Thestral felt warm and alive.

“Harry, what are you doing?”, Lisa asked him curiously.

“Petting the Thestral. Did you know that they pull the carriages?”, Harry answered, not taking his eyes of this magnificent beast.

Harry could hear a sharp intake of breath behind him. Lisa stepped beside Harry with an uneasy look on her face.

“Can you show me?”, she asked hesitantly.

It took Harry a moment to realise what she had meant before he took her hand and guided her to its neck. She squeaked when her hand met resistance.

“It's so strange. Touching something you can't see.”

“I think –”, Harry said before bending down, “ – she enjoys it.”

Professor Flitwick cleared his throat,

“I think it's time to head back to the castle.”

“Sorry, sir. She is quite the sight to behold.”

 

They had just entered the Entrance Hall when Professor McGonagall rushed down the Marble Staircase.

“Filius, where have you been? The students will be here soon”, she remarked and gave Lisa and Harry a scrutinizing look.

“We were delayed, Minerva”, he explained, hiding his umbrellas behind his back.

“I see”, she said dryly, her lips pressed into a thin line.

She obviously didn't like the deviation from the usual course of events and blamed it entirely on Lisa and Harry.

“Mr Potter”, she gave him a stern look. “Miss Turpin, go to Ravenclaw Tower and remain there until the feast starts. We will send someone to fetch you when it's time.”

“Yes, professor”, Harry and Lisa chorused and went up the staircase and turned left. They went along several corridors until they reached the entrance to the West Wing.

“Potter, Turpin, what are you doing here”, called a very cold voice behind them.

Snape swept towards them from the direction of the staff room, his robes billowing behind him. Harry wouldn't be surprised if Snape had been lying in wait for them.

“We are on our way to Ravenclaw Tower. Professor McGonagall told us to remain there until the other students arrive”, Lisa answered, trying her best to stay respectful and friendly. Snape just managed to rub people the wrong way.

“Ah, yes”, he smirked. “I have heard of your...misadventure. Tell me, Potter, isn't the train good enough for you and your sidekick?”

“I resent that, Professor Snape”, said Lisa cheekily. “I'm not a sidekick. I'm his partner. We are equals”, jested Lisa.

Harry was baffled at her attitude. _Was there any alcohol in Butterbeer?_ Snape also seemed taken aback. However, it didn't last long.

“Ten points from Ravenclaw for your cheek, Miss Turpin”, he sneered and turned to Harry. “Your father also couldn't help himself but make a spectacle out of himself.”

Harry's expression darkened and from the look on Snape's face he knew he had struck gold. Lisa grabbed Harry's arm hard before she replied harshly,

“If you say so, sir. Harry wouldn't know. After all, he never got the chance to meet his parents.”

Snape continued to stare at them, daring them to say something else, daring them to shout at him or insult him.

“Enjoy your stay while it lasts”, he finally retorted. “I will make sure you two get expelled once the truth gets out.”

Snape turned around and headed back to the staff room, leaving the two students behind.

“That was intense”, Harry murmured after a while.

“He still hates you...a lot”, Lisa stated.

“You already lost House points. The term hasn't even started yet”, he laughed. “I'm sure that's a record.”

“You are right”, Lisa beamed. “The Twins will be so jealous.”

_Home, sweet home._

 


	5. First Week Back Home

“ _Tut, tut — fame clearly isn't everything.” – J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone  
_

 

“Good morning, everyone!”, Harry greeted cheerfully and sat down beside Lisa.

The Great Hall was almost empty. Most of the students were already on the grounds and enjoyed the wonderful autumn weather. It wouldn't last for much longer.

“Someone is awfully chipper this morning”, Sue said with a smile.

“Unnatural”, Lisa mumbled into her tea cup. “You should have seen him this summer. He got up at the crack of dawn almost every day while we were staying with my grandmother.”

“I just love the early morning hours. They are so peaceful”, said Harry, pouring himself a cup of tea. He had already eaten breakfast down in the kitchens.

“Unnatural”, Lisa repeated and yawned. “How long have you been up this time?”

“I woke up before dawn and decided to use the last day before classes begin to its fullest”, answered Harry.

“What have you been up to?”, asked Sue curiously.

“I enjoyed the sunrise with Binky in the Owlery, had an early breakfast in the kitchens, talked to the elves and stocked up on treats for Mrs Norris”, Harry ticked off on his fingers.

“You are the only student, who actually likes her”, said Padma drowsily.

“I like cats”, stated Harry. “Cats are nice.”

“Not this cat”, insisted Lisa gruffly.

“Wait a minute!”, blurted Padma, suddenly wide awake. “You know where the kitchens are?”

“Of course”, affirmed Harry. “I haven't told you?”, he asked cautiously.

“No, you haven't. How could you keep this a secret?”, she complained and glared at him. “I can't believe it. Did you know, Lisa?”

“Not at first”, admitted Lisa sheepishly. “But yes, I know.”

“Unbelievable”, huffed Padma. “And I thought we were friends.”

“We should have known. He always had food in his pockets”, pointed out Mandy.

Harry began to feel bad about keeping the location of the kitchens a secret for so long. He had been told how to access them by the Twins after he had earned the information by facing Fluffy in the third floor corridor.

“I'm sorry”, apologised Harry. “I should have told you a long time ago. Please, let me make it up to you. I'll show you the kitchens and...something else later. Alright?”, he pleaded, trying to appease the girls.

Padma, Sue and Mandy exchanged glances and held a silent conversation. After reaching a decision Padma, their spokesperson, cleared her throat in a dramatic manner.

“Fine”, she said, still glaring. “We accept your apology. However, we expect less secrets in the future. You can't keep the good stuff to yourself”, she told him sternly. The corners of her mouth, however, were already twitching.

“Harry?”, called Lisa. “Did you already give them their presents?”

“Yes”, answered Harry and smiled. “You should have seen them. Overwhelmed and overjoyed. They can't wait to try out the recipes.”

Harry owed a lot to the Hogwarts house elves. It was only fair to thank them properly.

“What are you two talking about?”, asked Mandy confusedly.

Lisa laughed and explained,

“Harry bought a few mundane cook books this summer and gave them to the elves.”

“You gave the house elves cook books?”, questioned Padma in disbelief.

“I know. They are selfish presents”, Harry conceded. “But you can't imagine how difficult it is to find the right present for them. What do you give somebody, who thinks they don't need anything?”

“You are weird, Harry”, laughed Padma, Sue and Mandy snickered.

“Why, thank you, Miss Patil”, retorted Harry. “By the way”, Harry turned to Lisa, “I met the Fat Friar down in the kitchens. He agreed to meet us and talk about the good old days.”

“Excellent”, said Lisa, rubbing her hands, and added, “Harry and I realised this summer that we should get some first-hand information on the past from the Hogwarts ghosts. They lived history after all.”

“That's rather smart”, said Mandy. “Why haven't we thought of it before?”

“I think most students are discouraged by Binns. However, that's just him. He was boring in life and even more boring in death. The other ghosts are different. The Fat Friar, for example, is a jolly fellow and a bit of a gossip. Happy to share stories about his life”, said Harry. “And he was taught by Helga Hufflepuff herself. He was there at the very beginning of Hogwarts”, he pointed out excitedly, imagining the stories the ghost would tell them.

“You two won't mind if we join you?”, Mandy asked, giving Harry and Lisa her best puppy eyes look.

“The more, the merrier”, Lisa said. “Nobody should miss out on this kind of History lesson.”

“Potter”, an older student down the table suddenly called. “Have you already taken a look into the Daily Prophet today?”

The student's friends began to snicker. Harry got an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

“No”, answered Harry cautiously. “Why?”

“Page Nineteen”, said the student and tossed him a copy.

Harry grabbed the paper and turned to the mentioned page. The cause of their amusement was right beneath the latest excesses of the Weird Sisters. It was an article depicting his visit to the Leaky Cauldron and his first travel by Floo network. He groaned. Lisa took one look and began to laugh. Harry flushed with embarrassment and covered his face with his hands.

“Come on, Harry”, said Lisa soothingly, rubbing his back. “It isn't that bad”, she handed Mandy the paper.

“Good morning!”, a cheerful voice called behind Harry.

The students, deeply engaged in their conversation, hadn't noticed Lockhart approaching and startled. Their new professor didn't wait for a response and immediately snatched the Daily Prophet out of Mandy's hand.

“What have we got there?”, he asked and pretended to read over the article.

“Don't be disappointed, Harry. An article in the gossip column is a great achievement for someone your age”, he comforted Harry. “You won't believe it, but a long time ago I was frequently mentioned on this page. Nowadays, of course, I'm more suited for the front page”, he flashed them a blinding smile. “You see! Even I come from humble beginnings.”

Harry was frozen in place and had no idea what exactly was happening.

“I understand, Harry”, he crouched down and put a hand on Harry's shoulder. “Yes, I know what you are thinking. 'How can I measure up to someone like Gilderoy Lockhart? Reaching such heights is impossible.' However”, he paused for effect, “it isn't impossible. You are still young. There is plenty of time to reach the front page”, he smiled. “And look on the bright side. You already have a head start since a few people have already heard of you, because of the whole He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named business. I know, not quite as good as winning Witch Weekly's Most-Charming-Smile Award five times in a row”, he presented his dazzlingly white teeth again, “but it's better than nothing, isn't it?”

He stood up and straightened his robes.

“If you have any questions or need any help, Harry, my office is always open.”

He winked and strode out of the Great Hall.

“A few people have heard of you?”, Sue asked incredulously.

Lisa burst out laughing.

“This guy is unbelievable”, she wheezed.

Mandy shot her a disgruntled look.

“Did our new Defence against the Dark Arts Professor compare surviving the Killing Curse with winning a newspaper award?”, asked Padma.

“Winning a newspaper award five times in a row”, emphasised Harry.

 

After breakfast Padma subtly motioned Harry to follow her lead and both excused themselves to go to the Owlery. At the end of last school year Harry had given Padma a handful of Galleons and had asked her to look for books on Parseltongue while she had been visiting family in India. Harry theorised that the stigma associated with Parseltongue was heavily influenced by the Western attitude against snakes. It didn't help that the most prominent Parselmouths in European history were dark wizards.

Harry showed her the study room beneath the Owlery and she sent him another glare,

“Another secret, Harry? How many do you have?”

“A few”, Harry said uneasily. “Look, Padma, I'm sorry. If you want, I will find you your own private study.”

Padma smiled at his desperate attempt to show his appreciation for her help.

“You certainly deserve one for helping me with my research and keeping my secret.”

Padma's smile dropped. It took Harry only a moment to figure out the reason.

“Who knows?”, asked Harry anxiously.

This was bad. Harry usually didn't care what others thought of him. _Care about what other people think and you will always be their prisoner._ Harry hadn't cared what the Dursleys thought of him for years. It didn't bother him when people called him weird for believing – knowing – the castle was alive. However, superstition and prejudice ran rather deep within the magical society and Harry wasn't very keen on people finding out about him being a Parselmouth.

“My family knows”, admitted Padma quietly, not looking him into the eyes.

“Your family?”, croaked Harry. “Including your sister?”

“People tend to exaggerate things, Harry”, Padma said, rolling her eyes. “She isn't really that bad of a gossip. She might have told Lavender, but they won't tell anyone else.”

Harry knew both of them, but not well enough to trust them with such a secret.

“Look, Harry, I know you wanted to keep this as secret as possible, but my family became curious why I suddenly was so interested in Parseltongue. They pestered me until I admitted I was researching for a friend”, she said rapidly. “Then they came to the conclusion that this friend is most likely a Parselmouth himself. And Parvati”, she sounded exasperated, “just began to list the names of all my friends and it must have showed on my face...”, she looked at him, wringing her hands. “I'm sorry.”

She dove into her bag and pulled out a book. She handed him the heavy, leather-bound tome.

“It's on Asian healing rituals”, she explained. “Healing rituals have mostly fallen out of use, but are still frequently used in Asia and Africa. They often involve living snakes”, she said, giving him a shy smile. “As you can imagine, a Parselmouth has an easier time performing them. The same applies for harvesting snake venom for healing potions. I actually talked to a Parselmouth healer. She gave me this”, she retrieved another book.

“'Parseltongue for Beginners'”, read Harry.

“Parselmouths are more common in Asia than in Europe, but they are still rare. This book is a means to reach out to Parselmouths all around the world”, Padma told him. “It's fascinating. A little bit of history, exercises on how to speak Parseltongue without a snake present, a few spells –”

“Spells?”, interrupted Harry.

“Of course. Parseltongue is just another language. An inherent and hereditary language, but just a language. It's only logical that you can base the incantation of a spell on Parseltongue in the same way as on Latin or Hindi. However, they aren't like the spells we have gotten used to”, she noted and showed him an example in the book. “They are performed without a wand and are repeated again and again to show effect. One example of how magic was done before wands were introduced”, she lectured.

“But most importantly”, she said, her smile getting broader, “In other parts of the world Parseltongue is a gift and not the attribute of a dark wizard.”

 

McGonagall hadn't gone soft over the summer and they revised the first year curriculum in their first Transfiguration lesson on Monday. In the end the students showed how much they had forgotten by trying to transfigure a beetle into a button. Harry was halfway through the incantation when a thought occurred to him.

“Mr Potter, do you have a problem with the exercise?”, asked McGonagall, coming up from behind him.

“No, I don't think so”, he turned around. “At least, I hope...I haven't tried yet”, Harry saw the thinning of your lips and hurried to ask, “Professor, is the beetle aware of the change? Is its consciousness still active or does it lie dormant somehow?”

She pondered his question and moved in front of him.

“If you transfigure a teapot into a tortoise, you don't create life. If you transfigure a beetle into a button, you don't kill it”, she stressed and transfigured his beetle into a button.

“We remove everything, which makes the beetle a beetle. It ceases to exist. This is, however, a reversible process. By reversing the transfiguration, we are bringing the beetle back into existence”, she changed the button back into a beetle, which continued its way across Harry's table as if nothing had happened.

“Transfiguration has its limits”, she addressed the class. “We can't change the very nature of things. The buttons remain beetles at their very core. Mr Potter”, she turned to him, “is not far off when he assumes the part we cannot change lies dormant. Further explanation, however, would require theory I won't teach you until you reach N.E.W.T level. Rest assured, as long as you are careful no harm will befall your beetles”, she said reassuringly. “Now, please continue.”

Harry moved his beetle gently in front of him. _Sorry, little fellow. See you on the other side._ At the end of class Harry collected the buttons from his successful classmates and released the beetles back into the wild.

 

Tuesday started with double Potions. Snape was even more awful than usual. The train conductor had confirmed Lisa's and Harry's story and they hadn't received any punishment. It didn't sit right with Snape, who had apparently been looking forward to it. Just like last year, Snape swept in, his cloak billowing behind him, and started asking questions. Harry managed to answer most of them, but lost ten points nevertheless. Another ten points followed when the shade of his potion was too light. Harry got the feeling that Snape was trying his best to eliminate Ravenclaw's head start as soon as possible. After the class had ended, Harry headed back to Ravenclaw Tower. He spotted the Weasley Twins and Lee Jordan in the West Wing.

“Hi, guys. What's new?”, Harry announced himself.

“Not much”, replied Lee. The Twins, however, remained silent.

“Come on, guys. Are you still peeved, because I let Slytherin win the House Cup last year?”, asked Harry, not able to keep the frustration out of his voice.

“Do you hear something, George?”, said George, pretending to look around in confusion.

“Now that you say it, I think I hear a faint buzzing”, Fred answered.

Harry sighted and pulled out a package from bis bag,

“That's too bad. I was hoping I can finally get rid of these Muggle joke articles today”, Harry put on a sad expression.

“Muggle joke articles?”, the Twins chorused and whirled around to face Harry.

“A thank you gift for taking care of Binky this summer”, said Harry.

“Harry, you shouldn't have”, gushed Fred.

“But we appreciate it nevertheless”, added George.

“I have something else”, Harry said, grinning at their enthusiasm. “You know that my father was a troublemaker and prankster while at school?”, they nodded. “He wrote a journal for me before he died. It contains some nifty spells and potions. I'm pretty sure you will find them most amusing.”

 

After reading Lockhart's books, which were more boastful than educational, and his misguided attempt to cheer Harry up after he had 'only' made it into the gossip column, Harry thought his opinion of Lockhart couldn't get any lower. He was wrong. Lockhart was a narcissistic moron. He started the lesson on Wednesday with a quiz to check how well they had read his books. He didn't ask about the creatures he had fought or the dark magic he had encountered. He asked about his favourite colour, his secret ambition and other details concerning his own character. The remaining quarter was spent on fending off pixies. Lockhart was no help at all. Harry actually felt a lot safer when a pixie snatched Lockhart's wand and threw it out a shattered window. He had to admit, however, that freezing pixies was a rather good target practice.

“It's final”, Corner ranted on their way back to Ravenclaw Tower. “Another useless Defence against the Dark Arts Professor.”

“He can't be that useless”, said Mandy, trying to defend Lockhart. “Look at all the things he has done.”

“Things he claims he has done”, Boot pointed out. “Do we know for sure? Has someone cross checked the information in his books?”

“Do we really have to check?”, asked Corner. “He is undoubtedly an incompetent moron.”

“If we find a mistake, we can call him out on it”, suggested Boot.

“Alright”, Mandy interrupted, “let's assume you are right and he is a fraud, then why did Dumbledore hire him?”

“Because he was the only applicant for the position”, Harry answered.

“How do you know?”, asked Corner.

“Hagrid told me”, replied Harry. “People are starting to think the job is cursed.”

“Took them long enough”, Boot chuckled. “My father told me no teacher lasted more than a year for decades.”

“Do you think Professor Lockhart is a fraud, Harry?”, asked Mandy

Harry had been hesitant to judge Lockhart based on what he had seen.

“He appears to be a narcissistic, incompetent peacock”, Harry told her.

“So you are not sure?”, she said.

“Last year, we all thought Quirrel was timid, nervous and incompetent. A stuttering mess, afraid of his own subject. However, now we know that he was wearing a mask. He hid his devious and sinister nature”, Harry answered. “I can't help but think that Lockhart is also hiding a darker side under his pompous demeanour.”

“You are just paranoid, Potter”, Corner laughed. “Just because one Defence against the Dark Arts Professor tried to kill you doesn't mean that this one will try too.”

“Maybe”, pondered Harry. “However, if he really is a fraud, he is still fooling most of the Wizarding world. It takes some serious talent to pull this off.”

 

On Thursday Harry was confronted by a small, mousy-haired boy just outside the Library.

“Alright, Harry? I'm Colin, Colin Creevey. I'm in Gryffindor”, he introduced himself nervously, gripping his mundane camera so hard, Harry was worried he might crush it. “A few boys say you should be in Gryffindor too, that the Sorting Hat made a mistake.”

Harry knew it shouldn't bother him, but he had heard such a comment one too many times. Some people should really let go of their expectations of him.

“The Sorting Hat has never made a mistake”, replied Harry. _At least, he refuses to admit it._

The boy, unsure how to respond, hesitated briefly, but regained his courage and continued with determination gleaming in his eyes.

“Harry, can I – I mean – would you mind if I – you know – take a picture?”, pleaded Colin.

“A picture?”, Harry asked incredulously.

This was new. People mobbed him to shake his hand, they whispered and pointed and the bravest ones asked him to see the scar. However, nobody had ever asked him for a picture.

“So I can prove I've met you”, Colin explained. “I've heard all about you. About how you defeated You-Know-Who and he disappeared and that you survived the Killing Curse with only a lightning bolt shaped scar”, his gaze wandered across Harry's forehead. “Did you know that developing the film in the right potion makes the pictures move? A boy in my dormitory told me. It's pretty awesome, isn't it? The things you can do with magic”, Colin finally took a deep breath and smiled broadly. “My dad is a Muggle. He had no idea I'm a wizard. I didn't know either, of course. And since he doesn't know what Hogwarts is like I have to send him lots of pictures. It would be nice if I can send one of you too. Maybe someone can take a picture of both of us. What do you think? And can you sign it too?”

“What?”, blurted Harry.

“You know, an autograph”, clarified Colin.

Harry quickly looked around. He wasn't keen on people overhearing this conversation. If Lockhart should hear about this, he would have to bear another lecture. And Harry didn't even want to imagine what Snape would do.

“Colin, I don't think this is a good idea”, said Harry, leading Colin away from the Library.

A few people had approached during Colin's speech and had begun to listen to their conversation.

“I'm only twelve years old. I'm not a hero”, stressed Harry.

“But you're the Boy-Who-Lived”, Colin protested.

“Exactly”, Harry pointed out. “I only survived You-Know-Who's attack. I didn't defeat him, my mother did.”

“Your mother?”, Colin questioned.

“My mother defeated him by sacrificing herself for me. Her sacrifice created a powerful protection, which not only shielded me but also obliterated You-Know-Who”, Harry explained.

Colin stayed silent for a while, digesting the new information, before he continued,

“Then why do people say you defeated him?”

“I seriously don't know, Colin”, answered Harry. “Maybe it didn't matter to them. You-Know-Who was gone, the war was over. And I survived the Killing Curse. They probably didn't care how exactly it happened.”

“Look, Colin”, said Harry, trying to get his point across. “My parents were the real heroes of that night. I just don't feel comfortable with taking pictures and signing photos since I've never done something, which would deserve such attention.”

Colin couldn't hide his disappointment. He lowered his gaze and his camera. His previous enthusiasm and eagerness was gone. Harry felt bad.

“Hogwarts is pretty amazing. It's beautiful and mysterious. It offers far better photo motives than me”, said Harry, trying to lift Colin's spirits. “How about I show you around the castle?”, Harry offered. “The grounds too, if you want. Maybe your friends would also be interested. It will be fun.”

 

“Hi, Peeves”, greeted Harry. “Nice day for a swim.”

Peeves' head popped out of the toilet and turned one hundred and eighty degrees.

“Why, it's Potty Wee Potter!”, cackled Peeves, smiling wickedly. “What's ickle Potty doing here? Looking for little old Peevsie?”

“Actually, yes”, said Harry and pulled out a package of Dungbombs from his bag. “I want to make a deal with you.”

“A deal?”, gasped Peeves with comically wide eyes. He pulled himself halfway out of the toilet and rested his head on his hands. “Does ickle Potty have what it takes to deal with Peeves? And what does he want, Peevsie wonders? Does he want Peeves to leave him alone?”, he asked, his eyes glittering dangerously.

“No”, Harry gulped. “I don't want to miss out on your jokes and pranks, O Marvellous Mischief-maker”. Hogwarts wouldn't be Hogwarts without you”, Harry flattered him. “I ask for a lesson in History.”

“Potty Wee Potter wants Peeves to teach him a lesson?”, said Peeves, his smile broadened.

“You came with the castle”, Harry said quickly. “You have been the pain of every caretaker since Hankerton Humble. You have heard and experienced many things within this walls. I humbly ask you to share part of your wisdom, O Great Spirit of Chaos”, Harry bowed exaggeratedly.

When Harry straightened up he found himself face to face with Peeves, whose grin was so wide, his face was almost split in half. He shook Harry's hand firmly, pulled him towards himself and whispered into his ear,

“We've got ourselves a deal, my Potty Wee Lad”, Peeves said and set off the first Dungbomb.

 

The tryouts for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team were Saturday afternoon. Harry had been surprised when Cooper, the Quidditch Captain, had approached him earlier this week to make sure he tried out. Apparently, Madam Hooch had mentioned his talent. Harry hadn't planned to try out. However, Harry became curious what it would feel like to be part of the team. He tried out for the Seeker and Chaser position.

“Potter, you are a good Chaser, but even a better Seeker – a fantastic Seeker, to be precise”, Cooper beamed. “I want you as our new Reserve Seeker. Moore would train you up for next year. What do you say?”

Harry couldn't say anything but accept. He might have been reluctant at first, but was really looking forward to play now. Cooper already predicted an unbeatable Ravenclaw Quidditch team for the coming years.

“Congratulation”, the girls chorused.

“We should celebrate this”, offered Padma.

“We can't”, said Harry apologetically. “I have detention.”

“I forgot about that”, said Padma. “You are spending too much time with the Twins. Setting off Dungbombs in the boy's toilet”, she shook her head in disappointment. “I never expected this from you.”

“It wasn't me. It was Peeves. He framed me”, Harry defended himself.

“Sure that's what everyone says”, joked Lisa.

“This is going to be the second worst detention ever”, Harry whined.

Hunting a unicorn poacher in the Forbidden Forest in the middle of the night still was number one.

“Lockhart had asked specifically for me. I'll help him answering his fan mail”, he rolled his eyes.

And Harry was right. He addressed envelopes for hours while Lockhart shared life lessons and lectured him about the drawbacks of fame. Unfortunately, rumours of Harry handing out signed photos had already spread. Lockhart was just talking about 'Voyages with Vampires' and how it set new standards for literature when Harry stopped dead in his tracks.

“Come… come to me… Let me rip you… Let me tear you… Let me kill you…”

The disembodied voice sent a shiver down his spine. It sounded crazed and dangerous. Harry looked around, trying to find its origin, but was unsuccessful. He looked at Lockhart, who was still babbling about his successes. Apparently, he hadn't heard the voice. Lockhart noticed, however, Harry's discomfort and decided to end the detention. Harry left the office and slowly made his way to Ravenclaw Tower, peeking around corners and jumping at shadows.

 

Harry slept in on the next morning. He arrived just in time to hear a loud, shrill voice fade away. A small fire flared up on the Gryffindor Table and the plates and cutlery stopped rattling. Deafening silence followed. Harry moved unnoticed through the Great Hall and sat down.

“What did I miss?”, whispered Harry.

“The Weasleys got a Howler”, Padma told him.

“What's a Howler?”, he asked.

“Harry, you have been to Hogwarts for more than a year and you don't know what a Howler is?”, Mandy chuckled.

“It's a red envelope, which is enchanted to present its content in the writer's voice in a very loud manner”, explained Padma quietly. “It's usually sent to express anger and great displeasure.”

“So it's a very efficient way to humiliate the recipient in front of everyone?”, Harry cringed. “Does this have something to do with what happened yesterday on the Quidditch pitch?”

“Yep, Mrs Weasley was not amused. 'We didn't bring you up to behave like this, brawling like common Muggles'”, mimicked Lisa. “Poor Weasleys. I hope seeing Malfoy vomit snails was worth it.”

“Definitely”, Harry smiled. “At least I would pay to see something like this.”

 

Harry sighted. When Harry had told the girls that he had offered Colin to show him around the castle, they had insisted that he should extend the offer to the rest of the first year students, reminding him how lost they had been in the first few weeks. Harry, who still tried not to draw too much attention to himself, especially since Lockhart had begun to think of himself as Harry's mentor, had been reluctant at first, but had caved in soon since he didn't want to play favourites. He

had approached Lily Moon, Susan Bones and Luna Lovegood and had asked them to spread the word among the first years. He had also talked to Colin again to make sure he invited all Gryffindors in his year. Now Harry was standing in front of a large group of first and second year students. _I just should have given Colin his bloody autograph._ They had gathered in the Courtyard, right below the Clock Tower. Their excited chatter died down when he approached and the crowd looked expectantly at him.

“Hi, everyone. I'm Harry Potter”, he introduced himself, which resulted in a few chuckles among the crowd. “Hogwarts was built over the course of nearly five hundred years. It is a maze of corridors and staircases. In addition, the castle has a mind of her own. There are rooms, which change their location every full moon, and stairs, which lead to different places depending on what day it is. There is even a corridor on the fifth floor, which completely vanishes during winter. Needless to say, it's rather easy to get lost, especially in the beginning of your time in Hogwarts. For that reason, I'm going to show you how to find your way around the castle. We will also come across a few lesser known places in Hogwarts, which are both interesting and beautiful.”

Harry began to show them around. He pointed out the fastest ways between class rooms and other shortcuts and secret passages, which were quite useful in order to move quickly through the castle. He showed them the attic above the Great Hall and led them along the open corridor on the cliff side. He revealed the secret garden on top of the Hospital Wing's highest tower and the hidden courtyard near the Library. They went down the slide in the West Tower and observed Grindylows through a green-tinted window in the Dungeons. Harry enjoyed the tour around Hogwarts as much as the other students, even though it was nothing new to him. He even suggested to take a group photo at the end of the tour. Unfortunately, the rumour that Harry had been signing autographs encouraged several students to ask him for one. Telling them the true story of You-Know-Who's destruction was not as effective as it had been with Colin. Harry was still the only person, who survived the Killing Curse, and the symbol of You-Know-Who's downfall. There was strength in numbers and Harry almost budged. Thankfully, Susan came to his rescue and suggested a compromise. They took several smaller group photos, which would be signed by everyone depicted on the photos. It was already time for dinner when the tour is over. Luna Lovegood joined Harry and his friends when they sat down at their table.

“And how did you like the tour, Luna?”, Mandy asked.

“It was very nice to show us around”, she answered dreamily, “But I feel a little bit disappointed that we didn't explore the grounds.”

“Maybe another time”, Harry said. “But if you are really interested you should speak to Hagrid. He is the groundskeeper and knows them better than anyone else.”

“Thank you, Harry Potter. I'll keep it in mind”, she replied with a smile.

They talked during dinner, but Luna remained silent and was off in her own world.

“Harry Potter”, she suddenly said. “Would you be interested in sharing your version of what happened on the fateful Halloween with my father? I think it would make an excellent article for the Quibbler. We are always looking for the truth and maybe my father can help you finding out who has concealed your parents' role in the defeat of You-Know-Who and for what purpose.”

Harry didn't have to think too long to reach a decision and accepted. It was about time that the true heroes were acknowledged and celebrated.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Care about what other people think and you will always be their prisoner.” – Lao Tzu


	6. Gadding with Ghosts

“ _Do you not know that a man is not dead while his name is still spoken?” – Terry Pratchett, Going Postal_

 

_The Boy-Who-Lived – Conquerer of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?_

_Everyone in our world knows what happened on the 31 st October 2001. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, considered as the most dangerous and powerful dark wizard of recent history, disappeared after murdering James and Lily Potter and failing to kill Harry Potter, since then known as the Boy-Who-Lived. _

_But do we really know what happened on that night?_

_He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's sudden disappearance combined with Harry Potter's miraculous survival of the Killing curse was reason enough to declare him the saviour of our world. While a few people were still wary, the majority of the Wizarding world were already celebrating and exercising their 'inalienable right to party', raising their glasses to Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived and reason for the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Now, almost eleven years later, Harry Potter personally comes forward to tell us what really happened on that fateful Halloween._

“ _My parents were the real heroes of that night. Both of them died protecting me. In the end, however, it was my mother and her heroic sacrifice, which caused the downfall of You-Know-Who. He gave her a choice. I don't know why, but otherwise it wouldn't have worked. She chose me over her own life. Her loving sacrifice called forth powerful, ancient magic, which not only shielded me from the Killing curse, but also caused the curse to rebound, destroying You-Know-Who's body in the process.”_

_According to Harry Potter, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named didn't meet his end by the hands of a toddler, but by the hands of his mother. Lily Potter's love for her son and willing sacrifice put a stop to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's reign of fear and hate. He underestimated the most powerful magic known to men (even greater than gravity) and paid the price._

_But how come nobody knows of Lily Potter's sacrifice?_

“ _I think in the beginning people didn't really care what exactly happened. They were just glad that You-Know-Who was gone and the war was over, that they could continue their lives without fear. Rumours and hearsay made me into the actual reason for his downfall. It is weird though that in over ten years nobody came forth with a better explanation than 'the toddler did it'.“_

_Early articles in the Daily Prophet, following the end of the civil war, depict Harry Potter as the sole survivor of the Killing curse. Nothing more. He was just a symbol for the end of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's reign. However, when the Department for Magical Law Enforcement gave up searching for signs of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's continuing existence, Harry Potter's role as the defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had been already cemented._

_Is this really just a case of rumours getting out of hand? Or was the Boy-Who-Lived Myth purposefully created?_

_Godfrey Fenwick, amateur historian and expert on dark wizards throughout the ages, thinks that Lily Potter's role in the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was kept secret for a reason._

“ _It is highly unlikely that the incident was never further investigated. The power to not only survive the Killing curse, but to also redirect it back to the caster is too enticing to ignore. This means that the knowledge was hidden.”_

_But for what reason?_

“ _Defeating a powerful dark wizard always comes with prestige and power. Best example is Albus Dumbledore, whose defeat of Gellert Grindelwald in 1945 made him into the influential and esteemed wizard, who he is today. In my opinion, Lily Potter's sacrifice has never been acknowledged until now, because an alive saviour is always better than a dead one, especially when said saviour is a child and therefore can be easily influenced and exploited.”_

_Florence Fields, prominent full-time activist, agrees with Godfrey Fenwick. However, she thinks that the truth was hidden for a different reason._

“ _Lily Potter was a Muggle-born. The fact that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was defeated by her will deal a massive blow to the belief in Pure-blood supremacy. It is undeniable that there are certain darker elements of our society, who would have gone to extreme lengths to keep such information hidden.”_

_Honour whom honour is due. After almost eleven years Lily Potter is finally recognised as the real reason for the downfall of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The Quibbler will continue trying to unravel the remaining secrets of the fateful Halloween night of 2001 and expose those, who hid the truth from the Wizarding world. Regardless of their motivations._

 

Three days after the November issue of the Quibbler had been published Harry found himself inside the headmaster's office. He couldn't help, but feel a little bit nervous. Ever sine he had set foot into Hogwarts he had regularly visited Hat in this office. However, this was the first time he had been invited by Dumbledore himself, who was surprisingly absent. To pass the time until the headmaster finally showed up, Harry approached Fawkes, who was sitting on a perch behind the door, and began petting him. The phoenix looked rather sick. He had lost a great deal of feathers over the summer and showed several bald batches. Fawkes clearly enjoyed the attention. The bird gagged a 'thank you' and lost even more feathers. Harry's gaze wandered between the portraits of former headmasters and headmistresses and he tried to determine, who was sleeping and who wasn't. Some of them were terrible tattletales. He finally made his way behind the headmaster's desk and lifted the Sorting Hat from his shelf.

“ _Finally!”_ , exclaimed Hat as soon as Harry had placed him on his head. _“It's been three weeks since you last visited me. I was getting bored.”_

“ _Sorry about that. Moore has been working me really hard this past few weeks. He even plans to let me play a game this school year”,_ explained Harry.

Moore had been relentless and insisted on training in the worst weather conditions.  _There's no such thing as bad weather, just bad attitude._ Between classes, homework and Quidditch, Harry had hardly any time to explore Hogwarts or for his extracurricular studies. 

“ _That's no excuse not to visit me”_ , complained Hat. _“Besides, you had enough time to stir up trouble.”_

“ _Trouble? Me?”_ , thought Harry, taking mock offence.

“ _Yes, you”_ , chuckled Hat. _“The Minister himself was here today to ask Dumbledore about the article in the Quibbler.”_

“ _The Minister? Really?”_ , said Harry, surprised. _“I didn't think an article in the Quibbler would cause this much attention.”_

“ _People have been desperate for news about you for years. This is the first time you gave sort of an interview. The reputation of the magazine doesn't diminish their interest, especially considering the news. You pretty much destroyed the whole Boy-Who-Lived image by claiming you were not responsible for the defeat of You-Know-Who”, said Hat._

After a short pause, he added,

“ _Some might say this wasn't a wise move.”_

“ _I guess that's why I'm here”_ , Harry mused. _“Dumbledore thinks it was foolish to reveal the truth.”_

“ _I don't know. I haven't had a look into his head for decades. For some reason, adults don't like to wear me. However, you have to consider that he has known about your mother's sacrifice for years and has never made it public. I'm sure he had his reasons.”_

“Ah, Harry, my boy. I see the Sorting Hat has kept you company while waiting.”

“ _Speak of the devil and he shall appear”_ , snickered Hat.

“Just catching up, Professor Dumbledore. We haven't talked in a while”, replied Harry.

“Please, sit down, Harry.”

Since the Sorting Hat was still too big for him, Harry navigated slowly and carefully towards the offered seat, before sitting down and placing Hat in front of him on the desk. Dumbledore reached for the Sorting Hat, obviously with the intention to put him back on the self, but Hat spoke up,

“I don't think so, Headmaster. Since Mr Potter's Head of House is unavailable, I will remain in his stead.”

“I don't think this is necessary”, said Dumbledore and send Harry a smile. “Harry and I are only having a chat.”

“I'm staying, Headmaster”, insisted Hat. “I'm only leaving the office once a year to sing my song and sort the students. The rest of the year I spend on the shelf, surrounded by Silencing charms, so that I can't interrupt your meetings. Mr Potter's visits are a welcome diversion from my usual boredom. The least I can do is offer him my support.”

Harry felt touched by Hat's concern.

“Very well”, said the headmaster reluctantly. “I assume that the Sorting Hat has already informed you why I asked to see you”, he turned towards Harry.

“Yes, Professor”, answered Harry.

“Good”, he said and fixed Harry with a penetrating stare. “Now, would you mind telling me why you approached the Quibbler?”

“The attention I get, because people think I defeated You-Know-Who, is not only getting tiresome, but it is also misplaced. It was high time the Wizarding world learnt the truth about what really happened that night...who the true heroes are”, said Harry with determination.

“Call him Voldemort, Harry. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself”, Dumbledore said gently.

“You should really stop forcing your convictions down everybody's throat, Headmaster”, admonished Hat. “His very name is associated with death and destruction. People don't like being reminded of those dark years...of the loved ones they lost to him and his followers. The war has left very deep scars.”

“Scars, which won't heal until they conquer their fear”, countered Dumbledore.

“True”, said Hat, the tear above the brim forming a mischievous smile, “but why not call him by his real name then?”

The headmaster send the Sorting Hat a warning look, before turning towards Harry again.

“I understand, Harry, and I'm sure you had the best intentions. But the truth”, he sighted, “ is a beautiful and terrifying thing, and should therefore be treated with great caution.”

“The article made waves”, he continued. “In time your mother will be recognised as the one, who defeated Voldemort. A few people might even question their belief in Pure-blood supremacy. However, things won't change much for Miss Turpin and other Muggle-borns. Unfortunately, people believing in the importance of heritage and blood won't change their minds over night.”

“And your fame won't disappear either”, he added after a short pause. “I know the whispers and stares bother you, but it can't be changed. You are the only known survivor of the Killing curse and you will continue being the symbol of Voldemort's temporary defeat”, he told Harry.

“The information itself, your mother's sacrifice, doesn't cause these waves”, said Dumbledore and his gaze became stern.

Harry cringed. They had reached the crux of the matter.

“The theories, however, why it has been unknown until now, will cause a lot of trouble. The article accuses people of hiding the knowledge and deceiving the public.”

Dumbledore's expression softened again.

“I know that you offered your own explanation, that you are not the one, who is accusing, but nevertheless your name is connected to the article. And even though no names are mentioned, it won't prevent people from pointing fingers.”

“I don't want to discourage you from honouring your parents”, he said calmly. “However, all our actions have consequences. And these consequences often reach further than we intended or imagined”, he lectured. “You are too young and inexperienced to see every possibility. Sometimes the truth does more harm than good.”

“You are still young, Harry. There will be enough time to change the world. You really shouldn't concern yourself with such matters”, he advised.

“If you still want to make a public statement in the future, I have to insist you will come to me first and we will discuss the best course of action. Understood?”, he continued sternly, peering at Harry over his half-moon glasses.

“Restricting Mr Potter's freedom of speech, Headmaster?”, chipped in Hat.

“I have only Harry's best interest at heart. He is a public figure and his actions have far-reaching consequences. I'm only trying to protect him”, Dumbledore said, staring at the Sorting Hat, who surprisingly managed to stare right back.

“Promise me, Harry, that you will come to see me before you do something like this again”, he stressed.

“Yes, Professor”, promised Harry.

“Good”, he said, smiling again. “Since the issue is resolved, I won't detain you further. I'm sure you have better things to do. And congratulations on making the Quidditch team, Harry.”

 

Harry saw the wisdom in Dumbledore's words. However, he was convinced he had done the right thing. He didn't want to be celebrated for something he hadn't done and his parents deserved to be recognized as the true heroes of that night. He couldn't care less about the public. However, Harry would heed Dumbledore's advise and stay out of the spotlight for now. He didn't have anything else to announce anyway. He smirked. Too bad Mr Lovegood was already working on an article about the secret double life of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

 

Harry had taken to wearing ear plugs during Binn's lessons. The very presence of Binn's voice lulled Harry to sleep, regardless if Harry paid attention or ignored him as best as he could. History lessons with the other ghosts of Hogwarts, on the other hand, were much more interesting. Lisa and Harry had approached several other ghosts besides the Fat Friar about sharing their life stories. Most ghosts were delighted at the opportunity, only the Grey Lady and the Bloody Baron, who had stared at Harry until he had left, had declined. A few days before Halloween, Harry was looking for Sir Nicolas. The House Ghost of Gryffindor had lived in the fifteenth century and spend some time at the royal court of Henry VII, making him a good source of information on the interaction of Muggles and Wizardkind of that time and the rising tension between them. Harry found the ghost on the second floor, near the Library, staring out into the rain and muttering angrily to himself. When Harry asked him what was wrong, Sir Nicolas tried to downplay the issue, but soon broke out into an angry rant. He had been denied to join the Headless Hunt since he didn't fulfil the requirements.

“Half an inch of skin and sinew, Harry”, he said, waving the offending letter in front of Harry's face. “Half an inch. There is a reason why I'm called 'Nearly Headless Nick' and not 'Nick with the severe neck injury'.”

“I'm really sorry, Sir Nicolas”, said Harry, trying to calm the ghost down. “You are right, of course. It should be enough. I mean...they don't need every head to play Polo after all.”

“Exactly”, agreed Sir Nicolas. “I could be an honourable member.”

“I really wish there was something I could do to help you.”

 

“Why would anybody celebrate the day of their death?”, asked Padma, confused.

“A deathday is like a birthday for ghosts. They were after all kind of reborn that day...for better or worse”, said Harry, citing Sir Nicolas.

“Will there be food?”, Lisa enquired.

“I don't think so. I actually think it would be rather rude to eat in their company.”

Noticing their reluctance to accompany him, he said,

“If you want to go to the feast rather than Sir Nicolas' deathday party, I won't mind. He just told me that my friends would be welcomed too.”

Harry had to assure his friends several more times that he would be alright on his own, so in the end, he went to Sir Nicolas' deathday party by himself. Harry hadn't planned on attending the feast anyway. Halloween was a sore spot and he preferred to spend it in solitude. However, he was too curious to pass up the opportunity. How many living people could say that they had been to a deathday party? The corridor leading to the dungeon, where the party was held, was bathed in the blue, ghostly light of thin, black candles. Harry shivered with cold, which increased with each step. However, he also shivered with excitement. He felt a little bit like an adventurer, exploring unknown terrain. He wouldn't mind another living soul for company though. Harry was greeted by Sir Nicolas at the entrance of the dungeon and was showed inside. It was amazing. The dungeon was crowded with hundreds of ghosts, shimmering in the blue light of a thousand more candles. Pairs of ghosts danced to the earsplitting noise of a whole orchestra playing musical saws. Harry wondered if they played awfully on purpose to fit the theme of the party. If not, it could be a possible explanation for their deaths.

"Harry, come over here”, shouted the Fat Friar. “I want to introduce you to someone.”

Ignoring the curious stares of the crowd, Harry went over to the House Ghost of Hufflepuff, who was talking to a knight with an arrow sticking out of his forehead.

“Harry Potter, may I introduce you to Sir William Fall.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you, sir”, said Harry, forcing his hand to stand down and giving the knight a nod.

“It's a pleasure to meet you too, young man. I must say I didn't expect Sir Nicolas to invite a living soul to his party”, he said, staring at Harry curiously.

“Harry is part of a group of students, who regularly meet the Hogwarts ghost to listen to their stories. History taught by those, who lived it”, explained the Fat Friar.

“A marvellous idea, Harry”, he said and smiled at Harry. “You do your house proud.”

The knight looked at Harry thoughtfully.

“I guess you are a Ravenclaw then?”, he laughed. “Always looking for more knowledge. I was a Gryffindor myself”, he said proudly. “Always rushing into battles.”

“Sir William fought in the Battle of Sterling Bridge”, mentioned the Fat Friar.

“Fidelis is exaggerating”, said Sir William, flattered. “I didn't get much of a chance to fight”, he pointed to his arrow. “I was among the first causalities.”

The Fat Friar took Harry under his wing and introduced him to several other people. The two of them were talking to a group of gloomy nuns when Harry excused himself. He had spotted the ghost of a young girl in Hogwarts school robes, who he had never seen before.

“I think we haven't meet yet. I'm Harry Potter”, he introduced himself.

The girl eyed him suspiciously before she said in a shy voice,

“Myrtle.”

“Hi, Myrtle. Nice to meet you”, said Harry, giving her a smile.

Suddenly a familiar, malicious snicker sounded behind him. Harry paid Peeves no further attention. However, Myrtle unfortunately did.

“This is some kind of prank, isn't it?”, she said, tears appearing behind her thick glasses. “Nice to meet you...as if...why would anyone want to meet me?”

Peeves somersaulted across both of them. Hanging upside down above Myrtle's shoulder, he whispered into her ear,

“Heard that Potter visited all the ghosts in the castle and listened to their tales. But somehow”, he grinned, “he completely forgot about poor Myrtle.”

“No, Myrtle”, said Harry desperately, trying to save the situation. “I didn't forget you, but the castle is a very big place and I just didn't know about you before.”

He was making it worse.

“I wouldn't expect anyone to know me”, she cried. “Why would anyone want to talk about miserable, moping, moaning Myrtle?”

“You have forgotten 'pimply'”, cackled Peeves, who was having the time of his life.

Myrtle began to cry even harder and fled the dungeon, with Peeves on her heels, who chanted 'Pimply' over and over again.

“It is more difficult for the younger ghosts”, said Sir Nicolas, appearing beside him. “And it also takes them the longest time to accept their fate.”

“I'm sorry for causing a scene, Sir Nicolas”, apologised Harry.

“Do not worry, Harry”, he replied smiling. “To be honest, with Peeves gone I can hold my speech without being disturbed.”

Suddenly a hunting horn sounded. The orchestra stopped playing and everyone in the dungeon fell silent.

“Of course”, mumbled Sir Nicolas. “Should have known...”

The Headless Hunt had arrived. Several horses dashed through the wall, scattering the crowd. The initial surprise and shock of the crowd turned slowly into excitement. They laughed at the headless riders' antics and applauded wildly. Judging from their clothes, the group consisted of members, who had lived and died in different time periods. Some of them were even wearing armour. They circled the dungeon and came to a stop in the middle of the dance floor. Their leader, a big ghost with massive beard, leapt from his horse, lifted his head above the crowd, which caused further laughing, put it back on and marched towards Sir Nicolas.

“Nick!”, he boomed. “How are you? Head still hanging in there?”

Sir Nicolas' head almost fell off when the ghost clapped hard on his shoulder.

“Welcome, Patrick”, greeted Sir Nicolas stiffly, reaching up to steady his head.

_So, this is Sir Properly Decapitated-Podmore._

“A livin' one”, gasped Sir Patrick, causing his head to topple and fall off. Harry had to suppress a chuckle. The Headless Hunt certainly knew how to liven up a party. However, Sir Nicolas wasn't impressed.

“Very amusing, Patrick”, said Sir Nicolas with a forced smile.

“Don't mind, Nick”, said Sir Patrick from down the floor. “He is still upset that we won't let him join. But I mean to say – look at the poor fellow, half an inch is still too much. We do have standards after all.”

He picked up his head and put it back on his neck.

“Do they still call you Nearly Headless Nick?”, he added cheekily.

“An affectionate nickname, Sir Patrick. He is after all the House Ghost of Gryffindor”, emphasized Harry. “The House of the brave, which has commanded the respect of the Wizarding world for over ten centuries.”

Harry became aware that everyone's attention was focused on him. It was like the Leaving Feast all over again.

“And Sir Nicolas has proven himself worthy of this title. He has been a guide and counsellor for generations of students. There is after all no greater honour than to serve and protect children.”

The Headless Hunt remained silent after that and Sir Nicolas beamed at Harry.

“Excuse me, but I think it is time for my speech.”

 

Everyone, including the Headless Hunt, remained respectfully silent during Sir Nicolas' speech. However, as soon as he had finished and the applause had receded, they started a game of Head Hockey, much to the delight of the crowd. And although Sir Nicolas still looked longingly at their activity, the bitterness about the refusal to let him join had vanished. At least for now.

“It was very nice of you to speak up for Nick, Mr Potter.”

“It was the right thing to do, my lady. It's his special day after all.”

“Call me Helena, Mr Potter.”

According to Harry's older house mates, the Grey Lady or Helena had always been a rather reclusive ghost and only a few students were on speaking terms with her. So he hadn't been surprised when she had denied to share her life story with him and the other students. Even now she avoided talking about her personal life and their conversation focused on academic topics.

“It's a shame Hogwarts doesn't teach Healing anymore. Helga Hufflepuff would be very disappointed”, lamented Helena.

“Yes, Fidelis mentioned she was an accomplished healer.”

“If I remember correctly, the subject was taught until the early eighteenth century. St Mungo's has been training healers ever since”, she said. “ I believe it was one of the first subjects, which were removed from the curriculum after the Ministry took over the funding of Hogwarts. Closely followed by Alchemy. Sometimes I think the Founders would be – ”

“Mr Potter!”

Their conversation was interrupted by Professor Flitwick, Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape entering the dungeon.

“Good evening, professors!”, Harry called out, grinning.

_Why are they here?_ The sudden appearance of more living souls caught the attention of the entire dungeon. 

“Why didn't you attend the feast, my boy?”, Dumbledore asked, striding towards Harry.

The ghosts made way for the staff and followed their interaction with undisguised interest.

“Sir Nicolas invited me to his deathday party”, Harry answered.

“Do you really expect us to believe that a student prefers a party in company of ghosts over Hogwarts' Halloween feast?”, asked Snape disbelievingly.

“Traditionally, Halloween has always been a time to celebrate and honour the dead. I can't think of a better place to be”, said Harry defiantly.

He averted his gaze from Snape and looked to the other teachers.

“Professors, if you don't mind me asking...why are you here?”, Harry asked. “I haven't missed curfew, have I?”

“There was an incident, Mr Potter”, said Professor Flitwick. “We wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“Incident?”, said Harry, alarmed. “Don't tell me another troll found its way into the castle!”

“No, nothing like that”, said Dumbledore with a smile, which didn't reach his eyes. “Mr Filch's cat, Mrs Norris, was found petrified on the second floor.”

“Petrified? Who would do something like this?”, blurted out Harry.

He tried not to jump to conclusions. However, a petrified cat wasn't some kind of prank, it was serious dark magic. Harry couldn't believe someone would go to such extreme lengths to get back at the caretaker and his cat. For the first time in weeks Dobby's ominous warning came back to the forefront of Harry's mind. And from the look on Professor Flitwick's face, he was thinking along the same lines. Most terrible things were happening in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slytherin!Harry, Time Travel and a lot of Bashing. The second book inspired the end of this chapter.
> 
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/9622538/1/Travel-Secrets-First


	7. Harry's First Quidditch Match

“ _I’d heard you were dead.”  
“I heard you wear a red lace corset”, I said matter-of-factly. “But I don’t believe every bit of nonsense that gets rumoured about.” – Patrick Rothfuss, The Wise Man's Fear_

 

Harry probably shouldn't be here. His absence at the Halloween feast had been noticed and rumours were already spreading, saying Harry was the Heir of Slytherin and responsible for the attack on Mrs Norris. They would expect him to return to the scene of the crime.

It was a complete mystery to Harry how people were readily believing such nonsense. It didn't matter that he had never expressed any prejudice against Muggle-borns. It didn't matter that his best friend and mother were Muggle-borns. People believed what they wanted to believe.

Harry shouldn't be surprised. He wasn't a stranger to this kind of situation. Back in the mundane world, Harry had the reputation of being a troublemaker and liar. He had never done anything to deserve such a reputation, but the minds of neighbours and teachers had been poisoned against him by his relatives for years. They all 'knew' that his parents had been unemployed slackers, who had managed to kill themselves in a car crash – drunk, no doubt – and had left their equally good-for-nothing offspring with his upstanding relatives. They never bothered to take a closer look and form their opinion. Why should it be any different in the magical world?

Harry chuckled humourlessly to himself. He couldn't help but wonder how big the fallout would be when people found out about him being a Parselmouth. Parvati and Lavender were already looking at him warily and even Padma behaved strangely around him. He couldn't have chosen a worse time to show his interest in Parseltongue and he had the feeling that his ability wouldn't stay a secret much longer.

_THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE._

Harry glared at the writing on the wall. Professor Flitwick had filled him in on the details, when he had accompanied Harry back to Ravenclaw Tower on Halloween, but he had to see it for himself.

The message announced another year full of threats. A year more dangerous than the last one, when Dumbledore had thought it would be a good idea to hide the Philosopher's Stone in Hogwarts. If the Chamber and the stories surrounding it were real, Dobby had had every reason to prevent Harry from coming back to school. He knew the legend. He knew what would happen if the Chamber had been opened and the horror within unleashed.

Harry had looked for the grain of truth in every story, ever since he had found out about magic. However, he had also learnt to take everything with a grain of salt. Harry had previously doubted the existence of the Chamber. Unbiased historical sources said that Salazar Slytherin had disliked students of Muggle parentage. He had believed them to be untrustworthy. Harry thought it was a bit of a stretch that Slytherin had actually planned to purge the school from those students after failing to convince the other three founders to be more selective about the students admitted to Hogwarts. There was after all a big difference between excluding Muggle-borns and Half-bloods from attending Hogwarts and killing them. However, Harry wasn't so sure anymore. Dumbledore was unable to find the cause of Mrs Norris' petrification. He assumed, however, that it was Dark Magic beyond the capability of most wizards and witches. Was this year's Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor another wolf in sheep's clothing? Or was the horror within the Chamber of Secrets responsible? Harry was so deep in thought, staring at the wall without seeing, he didn't notice Filch marching down the corridor.

“What are you doing here?”, he growled menacingly. “Detention for loitering!”

“Mr Filch!”, yelped Harry, startled.

The fury in Filch's eyes vanished and the look on his face became somber.

“Oh, it's you”, said Filch, sounding disappointed.

Harry just stared at the change in demeanour.

“Stop staring, boy, and get out of here!”, said Filch impatiently. “You shouldn't be here!”

Harry, unable to speak, nodded and turned to leave, but stopped when Filch quietly said,

“I don't care what the little prats think. I know you had nothing to do with the attack on Mrs Norris.”

“Why?”, blurted Harry.

“Did you really think I wouldn't notice that you have been feeding her treats since last year?”, snorted Filch. “Mrs Norris had put on a little bit of weight, you know. She especially likes the tuna ones.”

He gave Harry a halfhearted smile, which seemed eerily foreign on Filch's face.

“There've been only a handful of students in my years at Hogwarts, who didn't treat her with contempt. She likes you”, admitted Filch.

“I like cats”, stated Harry. “Cats are nice.”

Mr Filch gave him a nod and turned to leave.

“Mr Filch”, called out Harry. “I'm sorry about Mrs Norris. She has been your companion and friend for years. So I can't really imagine how you feel. I just know that I would feel devastated when something happened to my owl, Binky. And I have only known her for over a year.”

“Thanks, Potter.”

 

“Lisa, take the cloak and carry it with you at all times!”, ordered Harry. “Do you understand?”

“I'm not taking your cloak, Harry”, said Lisa and shoved Harry's Invisibility cloak back into his hands. “Salazar Slytherin believed that only students of all-magic families should be allowed to attend Hogwarts, which means that you are as much a target as I am.”

“I'm a half-blood, Lisa. Both of my parents were magical. I'm at best a low-priority target”, said Harry angrily.

“You are also the bloody Boy-Who-Lived”, she countered. “We have no idea what the Heir is planning. You could be his main target. Dobby warned you specifically. I am not taking the cloak!”, she stressed.

“Why do you have to be so difficult?”, hissed Harry in frustration.

“And why do you have to be so noble?”, she hissed right back.

 

The next attack happened almost two weeks later, on the weekend of the first Quidditch match. This time, however, it was a student and people seemed to slowly realise how dangerous the current situation was. Colin Creevey was found near the East Wing. He had been attacked while exploring the castle.

“This isn't your fault, Harry”, said Lisa gently.

“I encouraged him to explore the castle. I should have –”

“You are not his caretaker, Harry”, she interrupted. “He should have known better than to roam the castle by himself, considering the current situation. Even without you telling him.”

“He is just a child, Lisa”, said Harry stubbornly.

“We all are children”, she said. “If there's anybody to blame, it's the Heir...and the teachers. They haven't done anything to improve security since Mrs Norris was attacked.”

Lisa was right of course. However, when he visited Colin in the Hospital Wing and saw the frozen expression of horror on Colin's face, he couldn't help himself but feel guilty. It was chilling how lifeless Colin looked, who was usually so cheerful and lively.

The atmosphere in the castle became grim in the wake of the attack. The first year students banded together for protection and moved through the castle in large packs. Even the older students were never found on their own. However, every crisis is also an opportunity and several students made quick money using the fear of their fellow students. This happened of course behind the backs of the teachers, who seemed unable to do anything about the situation. Not for the first time Harry noticed how seriously understaffed Hogwarts was.

A few days after the attack on Colin, Harry noticed McGonagall's gaze on him during Transfiguration, but as soon as he looked up she was looking somewhere else. When he finally managed to lock eyes with her later, he saw disbelief and a tinge of sadness in her eyes. Harry assumed that Parvati and Lavender had told her about his ability after one of their own was petrified. He couldn't really blame them. As the only known Parselmouth in the castle, he was the prime suspect. It still hurt, however. Snape soon followed suit. However, Snape's eyes held no emotions, when he was looking at Harry. They were cold and calculating. He also stopped harassing Harry in Potions. At least one good thing came out of this mess.

 

“What do you mean you can't play this weekend?”, asked Harry.

He was looking forward to play in a match, but he hadn't expected it to be so soon.

“I have detention with McGonagall”, said James Moore grimly.

“What for?”, continued Harry.

“Ah, yes, you see –”, stuttered Moore.

“McGonagall caught him and his girlfriend in a broom cupboard”, interrupted Jason Samuels, one of their Beaters.

“Stop, he is only twelve”, hissed Helen Miller, the oldest Chaser, and punched Samuels in the shoulder.

“Which means I'm almost a teenager anyway”, protested Harry. “I stumbled across couples before while exploring the castle. I know what happens in broom cupboards. Besides, the Weasley Twins take their roles as big brothers very seriously”, added Harry.

The Twins had always acted brotherly towards him ever since he had met them on the train in his first year. They were protective and teasing and shared their knowledge on pranking and sneaking. A behaviour, which had only increased ever since he had given them 'The Marauder's Guide'.

“Is there nothing you can do?”, asked Harry. “Can't you appeal to McGonagall?”

“No, not a chance”, said Moore, shaking his head. “She is adamant. I think she is still peeved, because we defeated Gryffindor last year and prevented them from taking the Cup.”

“This doesn't sound like McGonagall”, said Harry, perplexed.

“McGonagall is very passionate about Quidditch”, said Miller. “She becomes a totally different person. I bet she would have moved heaven and earth in order to get you on the Quidditch team last year, if you had been sorted into Gryffindor. Like everyone expected”, she added cheekily.

Harry growled at her, but she just smirked and tousled his hair.

“Relax, little eagle”, she laughed.

“Helen is right, Harry”, said their Captain and Keeper Robert Cooper. “You are a natural on the broom and you have trained very hard for this. You can do it.”

 

The day of Harry's first Quidditch match had finally come. Harry woke up early in the morning and, unable to fall asleep again, decided to go for a walk in order to calm his nerves. Since Lisa was currently in the possession of his Invisibility cloak, Harry had to be very careful. However, after spending so much time exploring the castle, he knew enough shortcuts and secret passageways to leave the castle without the need of his cloak. When he finally returned and joined his teammates in the Great Hall for breakfast, he was a great deal calmer. Cooper immediately took it upon himself to fill Harry's plate with the right food. Harry and the rest of the team groaned, when Cooper started another lecture on what to eat before a match. Several Ravenclaw students, including Harry's friends, approached them and wished them luck. The rumours about Harry were forgotten for now. Quidditch was after all more important. Moore took Harry aside for a last discussion of strategy, before heading to detention.

“Ready, Harry?”, he asked.

“Ready enough...I think”, replied Harry, trying to smile.

“Don't worry, you will do great”, reassured Moore. “Remember, the Beaters will try to take you out of the game. So stay away from the game's centre. The earlier you see the Bludgers coming, the better. Choose a good height and dive and rise at random intervals. Diggory is a good Seeker. You don't want to give the Snitch's position away too early.”

 

“Come together, team”, called Cooper. “Hufflepuff was lucky last year. They defeated us by sheer dumb luck. This year, however, luck won't be enough. This year we will destroy them.”

The rest of the team agreed with applause and whistles.

“This is our year, I can feel it”, he beamed. “The Cup is ours. Nothing will stand in our way.”

Cooper looked at their determined faces and seemed satisfied.

“Since luck is for fools, I won't wish you any. Let's just go out there and kick their asses.”

They marched out onto the field and were greeted by deafening cheers . Harry didn't look around, but stared stubbornly straight ahead. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. _Focus on your mission! Don't get distracted!_ Cooper and the Hufflepuff Captain shook hands. They mounted their brooms. Madam Hooch blew her whistle. And they were off. Harry rose high above the other players, distancing himself from the mess of Chasers and Beaters below him. He gazed around, looking for the golden gleam of the Snitch, when he felt something rushing towards him. Harry swerved to the right, avoiding the heavy Bludger by a few inches. C _lose call!_ Harry dived and scanned the ground for the Snitch. However, his search was again interrupted by the Bludger, trying to knock him off his broom. He dodged and dropped lower, but the Bludger stayed on his heels. Harry shot upwards and zigzagged across the field with the Bludger in close pursuit. Something was definitely wrong. Trying to shake it off, he flew through the Hufflepuff Chaser formation and managed to scatter them. Unfortunately, the Bludger continued to ignore the other players and raced after Harry.

“Harry!”, called out Duncan Inglebee, flying towards him. “What's going on?”

Harry dropped and Inglebee intercepted the mad Bludger, knocking it towards their opponents.

“Something is wrong with the Bludger”, said Harry, keeping an eye on the Bludger, which changed direction once again. “It's been following me since the start of the game.”

Harry ducked out of its way and Inglebee whacked the iron ball across the field.

“We need a timeout!”, he said, speeding in the direction of Cooper.

Harry didn't really pay attention. He was already shooting upwards to avoid the returning Bludger and continued to make quick changes in direction until he heard Madam Hooch blowing her whistle. Plunging downwards, he desperately prayed that the Bludger would stop its assault once his feet touched the ground. Harry landed and breathed a sigh of relief, when he saw the Bludger changing course out of the corner of his eye. He hurried towards his teammates, who had already assembled.

“So, what's going on?”, asked Cooper quietly.

“One of the Bludgers follows Harry relentlessly. It's been fixed”, explained Inglebee.

“That's not possible”, said Miller. “They are made of solid iron. They can't be tampered with.”

“Enchantments on iron objects change with time. Maybe that's the reason”, suggested Harry.

“No, Madam Hooch checks the equipment before every game. She would have noticed”, said Cooper.

“Doesn't matter. There is definitely something wrong with the Bludger”, stressed Inglebee.

“What are we going to do?”, asked Miller, looking at Cooper.

“No, I won't lose to Hufflepuff again”, interrupted Davis angrily.

“Do we have a choice?”, said Cooper, glaring at him. “There are only two ways to end the game: Either the Snitch is caught or a team forfeits the game. Broken or faulty equipment doesn't change that.”

“Alright”, gulped Harry. “I will try to catch the Snitch as soon as possible.”

“No, you won't”, objected Miller strongly. “The Bludger will take your head off.”

“The Bludger is heavy. It's manoeuvrability is poor”, pointed out Harry. “As long as I stay on my toes it won't catch me.”

“That's crazy. You are crazy”, said Miller in disbelief. “Rob, say something! Tell him he is crazy!”

“You won't be able to catch the Snitch, while trying to outfly the Bludger”, said Cooper matter-of-factly.

“Maybe”, agreed Harry. “But it's still better than forfeiting the game.”

Cooper eyed Harry carefully.

“Ready to resume play?”, asked Madam Hooch, coming towards them.

“Yes”, answered Cooper curtly.

Miller tried to object, but was silenced by Harry.

“Helen”, he said, determined. “I won't let this Bludger prevent me from winning my first game.”

“Bloody Gryffindor wannabe”, she grumbled.

As soon as Harry was in the air again, the Bludger continued to chase after Harry. He shot upwards and zigzagged through the air. He dropped and turned. He swooped and spiralled. Harry's moves became more and more erratic. He heard laughter from the stands. For a moment Harry pondered on leading the Bludger to the stands and letting it crash into the wooden structure, but he banished the thought almost immediately. Instead, he flew higher and higher, the Bludger hot on his trail, before stopping abruptly. Harry dodged and the Bludger shot past him, continuing its path. He raced to the ground. The Bludger had once again changed direction and came closer and closer. Harry could feel it right on his tail. He pulled up and swerved to the right. A loud thump sounded behind him and Harry couldn't help but grin with satisfaction. He looked around the field. Harry's eyes widened, when he saw a golden flash. _The Snitch!_

WHAM

Distracted by spotting the Snitch, he had dwelled too long and the Bludger had finally hit its target. Harry cried out in pain and almost fell off his broom. The Bludger had smashed into his elbow and broken his arm. The searing pain made Harry dizzy and the edges of his vision went dark. However, one single thought kept him conscious. _Get the Snitch!_ He plummeted to the ground, his eyes fixed on the Snitch. To the audience, it looked like Harry had lost control over his broom after getting hit by the Bludger and Diggory noticed too late that Harry was actually diving for the Snitch. Harry pulled his broom straight, clutched it firmly between his legs and reached out his uninjured arm. When his fingers closed around the small, fluttering ball, he almost burst out laughing, only the pain held him back. He slowed down and let himself fall to the ground, avoiding another attack from the Bludger. The impact made him cringe in pain, but he was still able to present the Snitch in his outstretched arm. He fainted.

“Harry!”, called someone through the darkness. “Harry!”

He reluctantly opened his eyes and saw Miller leaning over him as soon as his sight cleared.

“Are you alright?”, she asked.

Harry mustered all his strength and raised a single eyebrow.

“Right, stupid question”, Miller chuckled weakly. “Let's get you to Madam Pomfrey!”

“No need, Miss Miller. I will take care of this”, said Lockhart, strutting towards them.

“No! Please, no!”, groaned Harry and tried to back away, only to hiss in pain and stay put.

“Don't worry, Harry”, said Lockhart, flashing his teeth. “I'll fix your arm in a jiffy.”

“We really should bring him to Madam Pomfrey”, said a grinning Cooper. “She is the matron of Hogwarts after all.”

“He is right, Professor”, piped in Miller. “Madam Pomfrey takes her job very seriously.”

“There is no need to bother her with such small matters, Miss Miller. I've used this charm countless times”, he said and rolled up his sleeves.

“Stop!”, said Harry anxiously.

However, it was already too late. Lockhart waved his wand in an exaggerated way and pointed it at Harry's arm. Harry felt the foreign magic wash over him. It creeped from his shoulder down his arm to his fingers. Harry closed his eyes. He didn't have to look to know something was very wrong.

 

Lockhart had managed to vanish all bones in Harry's right arm and hand. And Harry had no idea how someone could mess up this badly. Incorrectly-applied charms could cause serious damage. Thankfully, Madam Pomfrey was able to fix it. However, regrowing bones was a nasty business. He was in for a rough night. After Madam Pomfrey had shooed his friends and teammates out of the Hospital Wing, Harry tried to sleep, but his inability to move made it rather difficult. He drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

Harry woke up in the middle of the night, hissing in pain. His arm felt like it was full of shards. Suddenly he felt someone sponging his forehead.

“Madam Pomfrey?”, asked Harry groggily.

Harry heard a high-pitched sob to his left and opened his eyes. He could make out the shape of a small figure in the darkness. _A house elf?_

“Hello?”, he called out.

“Harry Potter lied to Dobby. Harry Potter promised not to return to Hogwarts”, answered a squeaky voice.

“Dobby?”, said Harry.

“Harry Potter broke his promise and returned. Wasn't missing the train enough to convince Harry Potter to stay away? Why does he not listen to Dobby? He is in grave danger”, whispered the elf and continued his treatment.

Harry had already suspected Dobby's involvement in the barrier incident. The magic of house elves was too subtle to discover. _And very powerful too._

“I reckon the Bludger was your doing too?”, asked Harry with increasing anger.

“Dobby is so sorry, sir. But Dobby had to do it. Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here. Dobby is only looking out for Harry Potter. Dobby has to save Harry Potter's life. He is too important”, said Dobby gravely. “Dobby remembers, sir. He remembers the dark days, when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his power. House elves were treated like vermin. Of course, some of us are still treated like that”, he added and used his filthy pillowcase to blow his nose.

Harry narrowed his eyes. The last time Harry had seen Dobby, he had been too occupied to hide the elf's presence from his relatives. However, this time he paid attention.

“Why are you wearing this?”, asked Harry.

The house elves of Hogwarts always took great care of their tea towels and kept them in pristine condition. Dobby was wearing a rag.

“The pillowcase shows that Dobby is a slave”, he explained. “House elves can only be freed if their masters present them with clothes”, he continued. “Dobby's family is very careful not to give him any kind of clothing, fearing it would set him free.”

“This is not what I...”, Harry paused. “Wait, this doesn't make any sense. There has to be intent. Clothes must be gifted, not given.”

“Dobby knows, sir. But Dobby's family thinks he doesn't know the difference. They think Dobby has lost his mind.”

“You should really take better care of yourself, Dobby”, sighted Harry, his anger dissipating.

It was replaced by sorrow and pity. Dobby smiled sadly and Harry realised that Dobby had already given up and accepted his fate.

“Harry Potter is a great wizard”, he said, his lips trembling. “So kind, so caring. Doesn't he understand that we can't lose him? He is our beacon of hope. He has to stay safe.”

“I'm sorry, Dobby, but you have to understand”, said Harry. “I'm the Boy-Who-Lived. They would never let me go. Besides, I can't leave my friend behind. She is even in greater danger than me.”

“So noble and valiant. But Harry Potter has to think of himself. He must be selfish, must save himself. Harry Potter is too important”, Dobby continued to insist. “Dobby cannot allow him to stay here, now that history is going to repeat itself.”

_History repeat itself?_

“Wait, does that mean the Chamber of Secrets was opened before?”, blurted Harry.

Dobby froze, realising what he had given away, grabbed Harry's water jug and began to hit himself over the head. Both elf and jug fell off the bed with a muffled thumb and a loud clang. Harry cringed and looked towards Madam Pomfrey's quarters, but she didn't appear.

Dobby crawled back onto the bed, still dazed from his punishment and mumbled,

“Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby...”

“Dobby”, said Harry cautiously. “Can you tell me anything about the last time the Chamber was opened?”

The elf tensed up and glanced down towards the water jug.

“Don't you dare!”, hissed Harry, grabbing Dobby's wrist. “Listen to me, Dobby! I know you have to keep your master's secrets, but is there any information you can share?”

“Dobby is sorry, sir”, he squealed. “Dobby mustn't tell. Dobby can't –”

Dobby abruptly fell silent, ears twitching. Harry listened attentively too. There was the sound of footsteps outside the hospital room.

“Harry Potter must listen to Dobby. Hogwarts isn't safe anymore”, said Dobby hastily. “Dobby has to go now, sir.”

The elf disappeared with a loud crack, leaving Harry gripping thin air. He leaned back carefully, moving into a better position to observe the door. A moment later the door opened and through half-closed eyes Harry saw two figures enter the hospital room. Harry recognised Dumbledore and McGonagall. Dumbledore had his back to Harry and both professors moved carefully through the darkness. They were carrying something. Harry shifted slightly. It looked like a statue. They deposited it on the bed next to... _Colin!_ They hadn't been carrying a statue. It was a student. There had been another attack. On Dumbledore's whispered orders, McGonagall hurried towards Madam Pomfrey's office and returned soon after with the matron in tow.

“What happened?”, asked Madam Pomfrey quietly, joining the Headmaster in examining the petrified student.

“Another attack”, replied Dumbledore gravely. “Minerva found her on the stairs.”

“Her pockets are filled with food from the Kitchens”, said McGonagall in a hushed whisper. “We think she was going to visit Potter.”

An uncomfortable warmth began to spread through Harry's body. Panic settled in and he desperately tried to keep his breathing under control. He cautiously moved his body into a higher position in order to get a glimpse at the student. Searing hot panic turned into ice cold dread. Illuminated by the moon light, Harry was able to see the student's face. It was Lisa. Harry lunged out of his bed, hardly sensing the pain in his arm, and staggered towards his best friend, never taking his eyes of her face.

“Mr Potter!”, shouted Madam Pomfrey. “You are injured. Return to your bed! Immediately!”

Harry pushed past her. He didn't really notice her. She seemed as insignificant as his injured arm in this very moment.

“No, no...”, he stammered. “This shouldn't have – she can't be...”

“Harry...calm down, my boy”, said Dumbledore soothingly. “She has been petrified like Mr Creevey. They will be fine as soon as the Mandrakes are mature.”

Harry ignored him. His mind was focused on the state of his best friend and her horrified expression.

“This should't have happened”, said Harry, his mind clearing up. “She promised to wear the cloak at all times.”

“Cloak?”, asked McGonagall curiously.

“My Invisibility cloak”, answered Harry, not caring about giving up this secret. “I...I gave it to her. To protect her.”

McGonagall's eyes widened in comprehension. She reached into the pocket of her dressing gown, took out a piece of cloth and handed it to Harry.

“This cloak?”

It was grey and blackened. It felt stiff, almost brittle. Its magic had almost completely faded. It looked and felt nothing like the family heirloom, Harry had received almost a year ago. However, there was no doubt. This piece of dying cloth was unmistakably his Invisibility cloak. And it had failed to protect Lisa.

 


	8. Exposed

“ _The truth must be quite plain, if one could just clear away the litter.” – Agatha Christie, A Caribbean Mystery_

 

Harry woke up with a start, breathing heavily. Trying to calm down, he sat up and immediately noticed the stiffness in his arm, which caused the events of the previous day to crash down on him. He remembered the mad Bludger, Lockhart's failed attempt to fix his broken arm and the attack on Lisa. He remembered the panic, the dread and the disbelief. Harry slumped back, feeling exhausted and empty. His eyes found the high curtains, surrounding Colin's and Lisa's beds. He needed to see her. He had to make sure she was still there. Harry was just about to get up when Madam Pomfrey showed up with breakfast. She gently pushed him back onto his bed and checked his arm. Every bone was back in place and she deemed him fit enough to leave. He had something different in mind though. Harry wouldn't leave her alone. He could still remember her expression, frozen in a state of horror. It had haunted his dreams. He felt guilty. His best friend had been attacked while she had tried to sneak into the Hospital Wing to visit him. The cloak had failed to protect her. Harry had failed to protect her. Harry had known for a long time how important Lisa was to him but he had never realised how lost he felt without her. So he sat at the side of Lisa's bed, keeping her company and thinking about the past events.

“You don't have to worry, Mr Potter”, said Madam Pomfrey in the early afternoon. “I'll take care of her. Besides, petrification is like a deep sleep. She has no idea what is going on around her.”

“How can you be so sure?”, asked Harry. “You have no idea what's causing this.”

“Trust me, Mr Potter”, she said after a moment of hesitation. “If they were aware I would recognise the signs.”

After Madam Pomfrey had left Harry called for a house elf, asking for a favour. The elf was glad to be of service and was gone and back again in the blink of an eye. Harry thanked the elf and sat back down at Lisa's side.

“Now consider the tortoise and the eagle”, he read out loud.

_Just to be on the safe side._

 

On Monday the entire school had learnt about Lisa's petrification. The teachers tried to reassure the students of their safety but more and more students began to realise that the teachers were only upholding an illusion. Hogwarts wasn't safe anymore. Two students had already been petrified and it was most likely only a matter of time until the next attack happened. Everyone was on edge. The Muggle-borns were terrified, the black market boomed and the rumour mill was buzzing. This time, however, the new rumours weren't focused on Harry anymore. The petrification of his best friend made people realise how unfounded their suspicions and accusations had been. The previous awkwardness between Harry and Padma was also gone. She had hugged him tightly when the girls visited Lisa in the Hospital Wing. It was an unspoken apology for ever doubting him. Several other students approached him over the next few days and apologised. Only a small number of students were still wary of him but they remained quiet and didn't speak up. Harry was once again able to walk down a corridor without curious stares and hushed whispers. His standing in Ravenclaw was better than ever. Harry's skill on the broom and his part in their victory over Hufflepuff had earned him respect. His eccentricities and rule-breaking were overlooked. However, Harry was unable to enjoy those new developments and his mood didn't improve either. Too many questions were whirling around in his head. Questions that need answering. A trip to the library was necessary.

 

Harry was brooding over several versions of the legend. Every single one of them mentioned the horror within and it was also heavily implied that the horror was some kind of creature but there was no evidence for that assumption. The only clue Harry had was the state of the victims. Petrification, however, was considered dark magic and there was only one place which could provide Harry with information: The Restricted Section.

 

Harry escaped the worried glances of friends and teachers by spending most of his free time either in the library, reading thick tomes, or in the Hospital Wing, keeping Lisa company and annoying Madam Pomfrey with dozens of questions. She was not only an incredible source of information on the art of healing but also patient and understanding.

“Madam Pomfrey?”, Harry called out. “Can I ask you another question?”

She was currently out of view, tending to Colin Creevey. Harry continued after hearing a slightly irritated sigh.

“Mandrake farms always keep a batch of mature Mandrakes for breeding purposes and for medical emergencies. Right? So...why don't we simply buy those?”

“Money, Mr Potter”, she answered from behind the curtain. “The seedlings Professor Sprout purchased this year were worth a small fortune. You can imagine how expensive mature Mandrakes are. The school doesn't have the resources. Besides, the transport of Mandrakes is strictly regulated, especially in case of mature ones. It's almost impossible to get a permit when the situation isn't life-threatening.”

“Professor Dumbledore is a very influential man. I'm sure he could arrange something. As for the money...what if someone else offers to pay?”, suggested Harry. “My parents left me –”

“Absolutely not”, interrupted Madam Pomfrey, appearing in front of him. “We can't allow you to spend so much money. Your parents left it to you to cover your expenses until you finished school.”

“There are more important things than money”, countered Harry. “I would manage.” He was no stranger to spartan life. “Please, Madam Pomfrey. We have to do something”, he pleaded. “We can't let them stay this way until June.”

“Mr Potter –”

“It doesn't have to be me”, Harry cut in. “I'm sure other people could be convinced to help. Ask Lockhart. I bet he would love the publicity”, he suggested.

“Publicity is the last thing we need right now, Mr Potter”, said Madam Pomfrey sternly.

Harry stared at her open-mouthed.

“You're hushing it up”, said Harry eventually. “You don't want anyone to know what's happening right now.”

“Mr Potter, you have to understand. If the public learns what exactly is happening here right now, it will be end of Hogwarts”, stressed Madam Pomfrey. “The headmaster has no choice. He was able to buy us some time to catch the culprit and end the attacks by downplaying the incidents. We can't risk attracting attention by buying Mandrakes.”

She sighted and put a soothing hand on his shoulder.

“I'm sorry, Mr Potter. There is nothing you can do. End of discussion.”

 

Madam Pince eyed the note with suspicion. She analysed the signature from different angles and even took out her wand, tapping the note at different places. Harry schooled his features, trying his best to look bored and only mildly interested in the procedure. He was taking a huge risk – even with the note being the real thing. 'The Art of Bloodless Torture' wasn't something a second year student should read. However, according to his source, petrification was covered in detail and that was just what he needed. Madam Pince nevertheless fetched the book from the Restricted Section and handed it over to Harry with hardly any resistance. As soon as the book had vanished inside Harry's bag, he hurried towards his study room beneath the Owlery. He had work to do.

 

The content of the book turned Harry's stomach. The book was filled with curses and potions which were designed to break a person without shedding a single drop of blood or harming one single hair on their head. He quickly flipped through the books until he found the chapter on petrification, trying to ignore the other content. Unfortunately, the chapter in which he was interested wasn't much better. The majority of the chapter described how to petrify people while keeping their mind awake. Being locked inside your own body was a horrifying image. Harry hoped he would manage to read around these gruesome sections. One day later, however, Harry's research came to an abrupt ending. Professor Flitwick asked him to stay behind after class and judging from the look on the professor's face, Harry knew exactly the topic of their coming conversation.

“Mr Potter”, said Professor Flitwick calmly. “According to Madam Pince, you borrowed a book with questionable content from the Restricted Section. And while I appreciate your thirst for knowledge, I cannot allow you to keep a book, containing such dark magic.”

“But, Professor Flitwick, I'm only researching –”

“Mr Potter, regardless of your motivations, you are too young to study this kind of magic”, he admonished. “I will return the book for you”, he said, stretching out his hand.

“I don't have it with me”, lied Harry instantly. “I'll bring it later, Professor.”

Professor Flitwick, however, saw right through him. He waved his wand and the book shot out of Harry's bag. Harry cringed when the book landed on the table with a loud thud.

“Ten points from Ravenclaw”, said Professor Flitwick gravely. “I'm very disappointed in you. I understand that Ms Turpin's petrification hit you rather hard but it isn't an excuse for lying to a professor. You have to trust us to handle the current situation.”

“Like you handled the situation with the Philosopher's Stone last year?”, said Harry defiantly.

“Mr Potter, watch your tongue!”, warned Professor Flitwick. “I will inform Madam Pince not to accept any notes from you unless they are signed by me. You may go now.”

 

Harry was in an especially foul mood today. He had just endured another class with Lockhart, who had once again forced Harry to reenact another one of his supposed adventures, and was on his way to Herbology, a class the Ravenclaws shared with the Slytherins. Harry had nothing against Slytherin. It was true that the house had gained a bad reputation in the last centuries but cunning and ambition weren't bad character traits per se – just rather common among dark wizards. It wasn't fair to judge them all by the actions of a few members. The problem was Malfoy and his buddies who were much too pleased about the situation and even openly showed it. After Malfoy's disastrous attempt to befriend Harry last year they had been civil to each other when forced to interact and had avoided each other the rest of the time. This year, however, Malfoy tried to provoke Harry into a confrontation and had been relentless ever since Lisa had been petrified. Harry didn't know how much longer he would be able to ignore Malfoy because at the very moment he would like nothing more than to wipe the smug grin off Malfoy's face.

“Harry, can we talk for a moment?”, said Padma, ending his musing.

He had arrived at the green houses without realising it and was in the company of Padma, Mandy and Sue. No one else was in sight.

“Yeah, sure”, replied Harry nervously.

Judging from their looks, it was some kind of an intervention. Mandy took the lead and dragged him between two green houses. The situation was awfully familiar, bringing back unpleasant memories of his time in primary school.

“We have to talk to you, Harry”, said Padma gently. “We heard...that you got into trouble for reading a book about dark magic. And...we worry about you. We understand that you miss Lisa. So do we but being moody and distant won't solve anything.”

“Researching in the library or remaining at Lisa's bedside for hours on end won't help either. It's taking its toll on you. You look exhausted”, added Mandy.

“We are your friends. You are not alone. And if you need us, we are here”, said Sue, smiling warmly at Harry.

He struggled against the lump in his throat.

“Thanks, I appreciate it. The last week has been...difficult”, said Harry hoarsely.

“So...which book was it?”, asked Padma hesitantly.

“Padma!”, squeaked Sue.

“Come on, aren't you a little bit interested?”

Harry laughed, feeling a lot lighter. Fearing their reaction, he hesitated briefly before answering Padma's question.

“The Art of Bloodless Torture.”

“This doesn't sound very...nice”, said Sue, wide-eyed.

“What teacher was thick enough to give their permission?”, asked Mandy curiously.

“Lockhart, of course”, smiled Harry.

“You really shouldn't take advantage of Lockhart's compulsion to sign anything which stands still long enough”, laughed Padma, shaking her head in amusement. “Did you learn anything interesting?”

“Apart from the evil, lurking in the hearts of men? Not much”, answered Harry. “I only read the chapter on petrification. Curses and potions, a bit of magical theory...Professor Flitwick confiscated the book one day later. I hardly had time to read it.”

“Wouldn't it be better to leave the research to the teachers? They are far more experienced, after all”, suggested Sue.

“Are we talking about the same teachers?”, asked Harry bitterly.

He didn't wait for an answer. His frustration got the better of him.

“Because you can't mean the teachers who supported Dumbledore's decision to hide the Philosopher's Stone in Hogwarts. Or the teachers who pretend everything is in control when it's clearly not. Or the teachers who won't even try to obtain mature Mandrakes because they are too worried about the public finding out how bad things really are.”

Harry took a deep breath and continued, “I can't just sit back and rely on them to handle things because...because to be honest, I don't have enough faith in them.”

Harry looked around, studying their faces. He could see that his blatant mistrust in the staff made them uneasy. Voicing such opinions had never been a problem with Lisa. Both had a definite anti-authoritarian streak in them. These three, however, still wanted to believe in the infallibility of Dumbledore and the teachers. And in times like this, they needed to believe that.

“We have to actively shape our own destinies”, said Harry with determination.

Mandy broke the silence first.

“Do you really think you are able to solve the mysteries of the Chamber of Secrets when older and wiser men failed in the past?”

“I don't know”, admitted Harry. “But I have to try. I owe it to Lisa.”

“Why?”, asked Sue. “Why do you think that you owe it to Lisa?”

“Because it's my fault she was petrified. I gave her my Invisibility cloak...to protect her. But the only thing I achieved was giving her a false sense of security. She was attacked when she sneaked out to visit me.”

“Oh, Harry”, soothed Sue. “This isn't your fault.”

“It's still my responsibility.”

“Maybe Harry is right”, said Padma. “The teachers have different priorities. They keep the school running. We should help them. Who knows? Maybe we find an important piece of the puzzle.”

“Success always involves a bit of luck and chance plays a much bigger role than people like to admit”, proclaimed Sue. “I'm in.”

“Look, who's already here”, interrupted Malfoy loudly, arriving with his bodyguards and the rest of the class. “The great Harry Potter and his entourage”, he mocked.

“Let's get ready for class”, said Padma quickly while Mandy pushed Harry gently towards the other Ravenclaw students.

Malfoy, however, was determined to get a rise out of Harry and added,

“I see you finally ditched the Mudblood. Good for you.”

Harry clenched his fists. His magic was trembling with rage.

“I'm surprised the remaining Mudbloods haven't bolted by now”, he continued. “After all, it's only a matter of time until someone dies.”

_Keep calm. KEEP CALM._

“Too bad the last two managed to survive.”

“Harry, no!”

“Harry, stop!”

“Mr Potter!”

 

“Potter is his father all over again. He should be expelled for his actions”, ranted Snape.

Harry was sitting in Dumbledore's office, holding a staring contest with Fawkes. He had lost interest in the discussion about his punishment half an hour ago. Snape, of course, wanted him gone.

“Madam Pomfrey is unable to fix Mr Malfoy's broken nose. Something is interfering with her healing attempts. This is Potter's doing.”

After Harry had lost his temper he had tackled Malfoy to the ground and landed one solid punch, breaking his nose. There must have been some magic in the punch since the nose refused to heal.

“According to Pomona, no wands were involved”, said Professor Flitwick. “It was most likely a case of accidental magic, Headmaster.”

Harry couldn't help but feel a little bit guilty for causing so much trouble for Professor Flitwick. He really liked and respected his Head of House. Their little disagreement earlier this week hadn't changed that.

“Potter physically attacked Mr Malfoy and caused an injury which can't be healed by magic. Acts of this nature demand expulsion.”

“Surely, this isn't necessary”, intervened Professor Flitwick. “Headmaster, this is a difficult time for all our students. I know this doesn't excuse Mr Potter's behaviour but we have to consider it. Besides, it's his first offence.”

“I agree with Filius”, said Dumbledore calmly. “Harry?”

_Crivens! Now the bird is winning._ Harry broke eye contact with the phoenix. Dumbledore looked at him, unsmiling. 

“I'm very sorry for what happened to Ms Turpin. However, this kind of behaviour is unacceptable. I'm disappointed that you resorted to violence to resolve your conflict with Mr Malfoy”, he said sternly. “You will receive two week's worth of detention and Ravenclaw looses fifty points.”

_Totally worth it!_

“And you will apologise to Mr Malfoy.”

_Seriously?_

“No.”

“I beg your pardon?”, asked Dumbledore, puzzled.

“Just as arrogant as his father.”

“I won't apologise because there's no point in apologising if you aren't really sorry”, said Harry defiantly. “Mr Malfoy doesn't hide the fact that he approves of the attacks on Muggle-borns. He even regrets that nobody has died so far.”

“Ah, Harry”, sighted Dumbledore. “Those are just words. Do they really hurt that much?”

 

_Just words?_ Harry couldn't believe it. They lived in a society, whose members were able to twist reality using 'just' words, and yet Dumbledore believed that words couldn't hurt – couldn't be dangerous. Harry was seething with anger. Did Dumbledore really think that Malfoy's behaviour didn't cross a line? It was one thing to insult or humiliate somebody, it's another to wish somebody dead or to approve the attacks on Muggle-borns – even be happy about them. Was Dumbledore not worried that words could turn into actions? It didn't seem that way since Malfoy went unpunished while Harry got another week's worth of detention for refusing to apologise to this moronic, greasy, rancid pile of dragon droppings. His magic was still tingling under his skin. He needed a place to quiet down. Harry crossed the courtyard and ran down the Narrow Alley. Nobody would disturb him in the Locked Tower. Turning the corner, towards Humble's Gate, Harry suddenly met resistance. He stumbled back but regained his balance. The small figure in front of him, however, wasn't that lucky. She landed hard on her butt.

“I'm so sorry”, said Harry, rushing to help her up. “I didn't see you there.”

“Don't worry, Harry Potter”, said a familiar, dreamy voice. “Most people don't see me either.”

“Luna”, called out Harry, recognising the quirky girl under her large woollen cap . “How are you?”

Harry hadn't talked to her for a while. He had been too busy with everything going on.

“I'm a little home-sick but christmas isn't far away. So I'm fine”, she said, beaming at Harry.

Luna's serenity was contagious. Harry felt himself calm down by her mere presence. The tingling receded. His magic was content. Harry began to feel guilty for neglecting his newest friend in the past few weeks though.

“Your week has been rather exhausting, hasn't it?”, she said, concerned.

“Yeah, you could say that”, he chuckled humourlessly.

“You shouldn't worry, Harry”, said Luna serenely, skipping towards the battlements. “I'm sure everything will turn out all right”, she called behind her.

“How do you know?”, he asked, joining her.

“I don't.”

They stood in silence, observing the gentle waves of the Black Lake beneath them.

“Feel sad or angry. But never worry. It's useless”, she said, breaking the comfortable silence. “Trust the teachers to bring them back.”

Harry snorted.

“They are human”, she continued. “They make mistakes but Madam Pomfrey is still an experienced healer and Professor Snape is a great potioneer.”

Luna turned towards him and added, sounding perfectly serious, “He could need a hug though.”

Harry laughed.

 

Researching petrification proved to be difficult without access to the Restricted Section. It was considered very dark magic and books from the public section hardly contained anything about it. They still poured over dozens of books and collected any scrap of information but in the end they had to acknowledge that researching the symptom was a dead end. There were just too many ways to petrify people.

 

“I should be angry with you but I like how quiet it has gotten in the common room ever since you decided to take Malfoy down a peg”, said Moon, smirking.

They were meeting in an abandoned classroom near the library. Lily had sent him an owl this morning, telling him she had new information regarding Dobby and the Chamber of Secrets.

“Hi, Moon!”, he said, waving at her.

“You do know why I gave you the book on Occlumency, right?”

“To stay in control of my emotions at all times”, he recited in a deadpan voice.

“And were you in control of your emotions when you broke Malfoy's nose?”

“I couldn't help it”, admitted Harry meekly.

“Many people want to punch Malfoy in the face but they are also smart enough not to do it.”

“Or they aren't brave enough”, he mumbled.

“The Malfoys have been a very influential family ever since they crossed the Channel”, she continued, ignoring his comment. Harry could swear, however, that the corners of her mouth twitched slightly.

“You could have gotten into much more trouble than detention and loss of house points.”

“Lockhart wants me to help him with his fan mail again”, he moaned, trying to coax some sympathy out of her.

“Good”, she chuckled. “Maybe then you will learn something from it.”

Harry glared at her. How dared she? Detention with Lockhart was the worst punishment ever.

“Harry”, she sighted. “You're a celebrity if you like it or not...and despite all your attempts to change it.”.

“Are you still mad about the article?”, asked Harry. He could remember that conversation vividly. Moon had been cross. She couldn't understand why he would try to damage his own image. “It hardly changed anything, Moon. Lots of people still don't believe my version of the events. Too stubborn and proud to change their minds.”

It was time to get down to business.

“So...what did you find?”

“I found out who Dobby's owner is”, she said, prolonging her answer deliberately. “It's none other than Lucius Malfoy.”

“I should have known”, groaned Harry. “Of course, it's the Malfoys who are behind this.”

“Don't be hasty, Harry”, advised Moon. “The only thing you know is that Lucius knew what would happen this year. It could be anyone of Lucius' Death Eater buddies.”

“Great, so we have nothing”, grumbled Harry.

“Actually...there's something else”, said Moon. Harry listened attentively. “I eavesdropped on Malfoy talking to his minions the other day. The last time the Chamber was opened was seventy years ago. Several students were injured, one...died.”

“So...the attacks can end deadly?”, asked Harry tentatively, fearing the answer.

“I'm afraid it seems that way, Harry”, answered Lily quietly. “We've been lucky so far.”

“And the other students?”, he continued. “Were they petrified?”

“I don't know.”

“Did Malfoy mention anything else?”

“Apparently, the culprit was caught and expelled. Malfoy thinks they are still in Azkaban.”

“Any names?”

“No. Headmaster Dippet managed to hush everything up. I would be surprised if you find any records.”

 

Harry was the only Ravenclaw who stayed in Hogwarts over the holidays. Everyone else used the opportunity to flee the castle which had become a dreary place due to the constant fear. However, Harry couldn't leave. He wouldn't even be tempted if he had other options than the Dursleys. He didn't want Lisa to spend christmas alone. It didn't matter if she was aware or not. Harry also wrote Sarah, assuring her that he would take care of her daughter. He didn't expect her answer to be a frantic request for more information. Harry approached Professor Flitwick after Charms.

“Professor, do you have a moment?”

“Of course, Mr Potter”, said the small teacher. “What can I do for you?”

He gave Harry a smile but it vanished quickly when he saw the look on Harry's face.

“I received a letter from Lisa's mother”, said Harry. Professor Flitwick looked calm but Harry felt the tension in the air. “You kept Lisa's true condition from Mrs Turpin.”

“Mr Potter –”

“She is her mother”, interrupted Harry harshly. “She has a right to know.”

“Mr Potter, we decided it would be best not to needlessly upset the parents of the affected students.”

“Needlessly upset?”, repeated Harry slowly. “She is beside herself with worry. She wrote several letters, trying to get more information. Every single one of them went unanswered. And I know from experience that it's possible to contact Hogwarts by mundane mail.”

“Mr Potter, please, keep your voice down”, beseeched Flitwick. Harry hadn't realised how loud he had gotten. He also hadn't noticed that a window had cracked halfway through his rant. “Using Muggle mail to contact Hogwarts is unreliable. There is no guarantee that the letters arrive here.”

“So all of them vanished along the way?”, said Harry in disbelief.

“Mr Potter, you have to understand”, said Flitwick, sounding more desperate. “It's for the best. Mrs Turpin can't do anything to help her daughter. She can't even visit her.”

_Challenge accepted._

 

Harry decided to properly investigate the scene of the first attack. He had avoided the place until now since he hadn't wanted to encourage the rumours about him. However, things had changed. The library had failed him for the first time in his life and he was at a loss what to do next. The girls had tried to stop him from roaming around the castle but Harry had to do something.

“This is going to be a lot of fun”, said Luna in her far-away, dreamy voice. She had overheard them talking and volunteered to accompany Harry, eager for another tour through the castle. “I really enjoy spending time with you, Harry.”

She smiled at him and Harry felt the growing need to lock Luna in a tower and hide her away from the world. Harry had really tried to change her mind. She shouldn't be here. However, Luna was as unmoveable as a rock despite appearing like she was living with her head in the clouds.

“And I like spending time with you, Luna”, said Harry fondly. “But are you sure you wouldn't prefer exploring the grounds over searching for the Chamber?”

“Yes, I'm sure.”

Mr Filch had been unable to remove the writing on the wall. It was still there, gleaming blood red in the torchlight. They searched every nook and cranny of the corridor but they found nothing.

“Maybe we should ask Myrtle if she saw something funny on Halloween?”, suggested Luna.

“Myrtle?”

“She lives in the bathroom over there”, she said, pointing at the door with a large 'Out of Order' sign.

Harry thought hard, unable to place the name, until he suddenly realised, “Oh, you mean Moaning Myrtle. She really lives here?”

The bathroom didn't look like a place where he would spend eternity. Luna looked at him disapprovingly and said, “It's a very nice place. It's quiet and nobody comes here.”

“Sorry”, he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Maybe you should talk to her alone. My last meeting with her didn't end well. I'm not sure –”

“Nonsense”, interrupted Luna. “I'm sure it was just a misunderstanding.”

Myrtle wasn't too happy about having a boy in her bathroom. However, she was willing to talk after Luna had convinced her that Harry wasn't here to laugh at her. Unfortunately, she hadn't seen anything since she had been so upset about Peeves on Halloween that she had tried to kill herself, only to realise that she was already dead. They also checked the East Tower and the corridor near the Headmaster's office where the other two attacks had happened. They found nothing.

“Not even a single spider”, sighted Luna.

 

The look on Snape's face when Lockhart introduced him as his assistant was priceless. It even got better when Snape blasted Lockhart across the stage. Harry had already expected the worst when these two had showed up. However, the Duelling Club proved to be rather entertaining. At least, until the moment the teachers put them all into pairs and Snape got to Harry first. He paired Harry with Malfoy who was obviously out for revenge.

“Face your partners!”, called Lockhart, standing on the stage and overlooking the crowd. “And bow!”

Malfoy hardly moved his head, keeping his eyes on Harry. Harry, however, took the risk and bowed, preparing himself for an early attack. The Slytherin didn't disappoint. As soon as Harry exposed his neck Malfoy fired the first spell. It missed and harmlessly hit the floor. Harry had moved to the side to avoid it.

“There's no need to hurry, Mr Malfoy!”, called Lockhart. “You'll get your rematch soon enough”, he chuckled lightly.

Malfoy flushed and glared at Harry when several students joined in.

“Now...on the count of three – one...two...three –”

Harry wasn't able to dodge the next spell. Malfoy had pulled another dirty trick and had already started on 'two'. The spell hit Harry in the knees and his legs began to move on their own, performing some kind of dance.

“Expelliarmus!”, shouted Harry but his aim was off. The spell hit Malfoy in his right leg. He toppled over but kept hold of his wand.

“Stop! Stop!”

“Finite Incantatem!”

The Great Hall was in chaos. Clouds of greenish mist were floating around. Students were lying on the floor, unmoving. Others had begun to duel in a more physical way. To avoid another mess, Lockhart decided to show them how to block unfriendly spells. With the help of volunteers. Snape, of course, suggested him and Malfoy. Lockhart tried to instruct Harry but ended up dropping his wand. Harry would have laughed if he hadn't noticed Snape smirking and whispering something into Malfoy's ear. Snape was up to something and it didn't bode well for Harry.

“Scared?”, muttered Malfoy.

“You wish”, replied Harry.

Harry didn't really pay attention when Lockhart tried to encourage him. He was solely focused on Malfoy.

“Three – two – one – go!”

“Expelliarmus!”

“Serpensortia!”

Harry's spell hit Malfoy right in the chest, not only disarming him but also throwing him back several feet. His wand sailed through the air and landed in Harry's outstretched hand. He had never touched another wand but his own and was consequently unprepared for the feeling. The wand whispered. It told Harry about itself and by extension about Malfoy but Harry could hardly understand it. He shortly forgot about the long black snake Malfoy had conjured. It had slithered dangerously close while Harry was distracted. It raised itself, fangs exposed, ready to strike.

“Potter!”, called Snape from across the stage, where he helped up a dazed Malfoy.

Harry reacted without thinking when he found himself face to face with an enraged snake.

“ _Stop!”_

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “Who knew what evil lurked in the hearts of men? A copper, that's who.” – Terry Pratchett, Night Watch
> 
> “Commander, I always used to consider that you had a definite anti-authoritarian streak in you.”  
> “Sir?”  
> “It seems that you have managed to retain this even though you are authority.”  
> “Sir?”  
> “That’s practically zen.”   
> – Terry Pratchett, Feet of Clay
> 
> “Aang, you must actively shape your own destiny and the destiny of the world.” – Avatar: The Last Airbender, Book 3: Sozin's Comet, Part 2: The Old Masters


	9. The Heir and his Scapegoat

“ _Another response of the wizards, when faced with a new and unique situation, was to look through their libraries to see if it had ever happened before. This was, Lord Vetinari reflected, a good survival trait. It meant that in times of danger you spent the day sitting very quietly in a building with very thick walls.” – Terry Pratchett, The Last Hero_

 

In most castles, palaces and manors the Great Hall was the centre of life. It was a place of chatter, laughter and feasting – which made the eery quiet that had fallen upon the Hall even more disconcerting.

Harry didn't dare to look around. He didn't want to see the suspicion and fear in the students' eyes. He solely focused on the snake in front of him who had stopped its attack and was now looking expectantly at him, like a limbless, venomous puppy.

If Harry hadn't felt so sick he would have laughed at the sight.

He couldn't believe it. He had just revealed his ability in front of the whole school. At the worst possible moment. Being a Parselmouth would be seen as the final, damning proof that Harry Potter was the Heir of Slytherin.

He had been so reluctant to share his secret with others, fearing that the more people knew about it the more likely it was that it would eventually get out.

And now he was the one who had blown his own secret. _Oh, the irony!_

Harry startled when the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke. Snape had finally come to his rescue. Far too late.

An ugly thought found its way into Harry's mind.

The teachers knew he was a Parselmouth – thanks to Parvati and Lavender – which included Snape too.

Harry remembered that he had whispered something to Malfoy, right before the blonde Slytherin had used the Snake Summons Spell which was rather complex and advanced.

Had Snape deliberately exposed his secret?

Harry wouldn't put it past him. The man hated him with a passion.

When the muttering started Mandy grabbed his arm and dragged him off the stage and out of the Great Hall.

The students in their path moved back hurriedly. He could already hear their accusations and suspicions.

_He's a Parselmouth._

_Everyone knows that's the mark of a Dark wizard._

_There's no doubt anymore._

_Potter is the Heir of Slytherin._

“You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?”, whispered Mandy furiously when they had left the Entrance Hall and rushed down the corridor towards the West Wing.

Harry nervously bit his lip. He had planned to tell Mandy and Sue about his skill – on Padma's urging – but he had continued to put it off.

“Mandy...”, Sue began cautiously but she was cut off.

“No, Sue”, said Mandy, silencing her friend with an angry glare. “I want to know why.”

“It's not his fault, Mandy”, intervened Padma. “Nobody in their right mind would reveal that they have this kind of skill. Especially right now.”

Mandy stopped abruptly and narrowed her eyes at Padma,“You already knew, didn't you?”, she accused.

Padma opened her mouth, ready to answer, but settled for nodding silently in the end.

“And why did you trust Padma and not us?”, asked Mandy, fuming.

Harry cringed, “It wasn't about trust, Mandy. Padma knew because I asked her to do some research while she was visiting her family in India last summer. I wanted to know if there are countries in the world where I'm not automatically a Dark wizard just because I can talk to snakes.”

Mandy's expression softened a bit – a twinge of sympathy in her eyes – before she huffed and stormed down the corridor, leaving Harry, Sue and Padma behind.

It took a moment before the trio chased after her.

“Look, Mandy...Sue. I'm really sorry”, apologised Harry, addressing both of them. “It...it just wasn't the right time. I was afraid that...”

Harry faltered, trying to put his fears into words.

“That we turn on you when we find out?”, snapped Mandy and whirled around to face him. Harry almost bumped into her. “Really, Harry? Do you have so little faith in us?”

“To be fair, I kind of avoided him for a few days after Creevey was petrified”, admitted Padma. “It's quite understandable why he didn't want to say anything.”

“Thanks, Padma”, said Harry. He appreciated her efforts to defend him. “But Mandy is right. I should have told you. You were there for me when I needed you. You helped me with my research. But I was simply too afraid to tell you.”

“Harry”, said Sue gently. “We know you. You would never discriminate people based on their heritage. Besides, Lisa is your best friend. And I don't care what other people say. A friendship like yours cannot be faked.”

“Thanks”, he sighted, relieved. “You don't know how much that means to me. I'm really sorry.”

“It's fine, Harry. We understand”, said Sue, giving him a shy smile and nudging Mandy in her side.

“Speak for yourself, Sue. He has to earn my forgiveness.”

A smile crept across Harry's face, “I think that's only fair.”

Mandy glared at him, “Wipe that smile off your face, Potter. I won't make it easy for you.”

 

Lockhart didn't ask him to perform in 'Defence Against the Dark Arts' the following day. He asked Corner instead who looked rather smug about it. Harry was just glad to be rid of this questionable honour. The professor actually completely ignored Harry and also cancelled his remaining detentions with him.

A few weeks ago, Harry wouldn't have minded but that was before he had begun picking Lockhart's brain about how to deal with his fame.

Lockhart might be a fraud but he knew how to charm the masses. The imbecile wouldn't be famous in the first place if he didn't know how to.

He wasn't the only one who had begun to avoid Harry.

Several of his classmates kept their distance, stealing glances at him during breakfast and class – the suspicion evident in their eyes.

Even people who hadn't believed in the rumours before fell victim to the spreading whisperings.

Harry had become a pariah over night.

They had been able to do some damage control in Ravenclaw.

The books Padma had brought from India smothered the brunt of the suspicions against Harry but a considerable part of his House still eyed him warily. He wasn't above suspicion simply because Parselmouths weren't automatically Dark wizards.

Hufflepuff and Gryffindor were without a doubt lost causes. Not all of them, mind you, but the majority of them were convinced that he was behind the attacks.

Ronald Weasley, the Twins' little brother, for example, proudly exclaimed after Lockhart's lesson that he had always known that Harry was just another slimy snake.

Harry ignored the boy's remarks. They were nothing new.

He retreated into the Hospital Wing to find some peace and quiet. However, he was only granted half an hour before the door burst open and a group of people marched in.

“Poppy!”, called out McGonagall. The distress was obvious in her voice.

“Minerva, keep it down! I have patients”, answered Madam Pomfrey before gasping, “Oh, no!”

“They were found near the Library”, said Professor Sinistra.

“How is this possible?”, asked Madam Pomfrey. “Sir Nicolas is a ghost. What kind of magic can do this?”

Harry dropped his book in shock. A ghost had been attacked and by the sound of it, he wasn't unaffected by whatever magic had petrified the other victims.

“Is he here?”, asked McGonagall in a low voice.

_Please, pay no attention to the boy behind the curtain._

A moment later the curtains were opened, revealing a stern looking McGonagall.

_Bugger._

“Mr Potter, the Headmaster wants to see you”, she said curtly.

“Alright”, he sighted. “Is Professor Flitwick already informed?”

“I'm afraid Professor Flitwick is otherwise occupied.”

“Isn't it curious that every time I'm called to the Headmaster's office my Head of House is busy?”, retorted Harry.

The Deputy Headmistress narrowed her eyes in disapproval of his tone, “Mr Potter, the Headmaster just wants to talk to you.”

“So this has nothing to do with the recent attack?”

She remained silent.

“Fine”, said Harry, giving up. “Let's get this over with.”

Harry exited the safe domain behind the curtains. The first thing he saw was Justin Finch-Fletchley, lying on a hospital bed as stiff as a statue. He wore the same horrified expression on his face as the other victims.

Beside him, floating impassively a few inches above the ground, was Sir Nicolas. His usual silvery appearance was dulled and blackened.

“You!”, shouted Ernie Mcmillan, dramatically pointing a large fan at him.

“Professor McGonagall”, he called out, turning towards her. “You have to expel him. It's obviously Potter who is behind all this. He is a Parselmouth, for goodness sake. Everyone knows it's the mark of a Dark wizard.”

“That will do, Mr Macmillan!”, said McGonagall sharply.

She led Harry outside, down the corridor and up the stairs to the Headmaster's office. The gargoyle, who protected the entrance, recognised Harry immediately and hopped aside before McGonagall was able to name the password.

Harry suppressed a chuckle when he saw McGonagall raised an eyebrow in surprise, followed by slight disapproval.

While his many visits to talk to the Sorting Hat hadn't gone unnoticed by the staff, they had no idea how he was doing it and all attempts to keep him out had failed for now.

They took the spiral staircase upwards and entered the office. Dumbledore wasn't here yet.

Harry wouldn't put it past the Headmaster to observe him through a hole in the wall and wait for the perfect moment to make a dramatic entrance.

After McGonagall had left him alone Harry turned towards Fawkes. Dumbledore's phoenix looked more terrible than ever. The small number of feathers which were still attached to him had lost their colour, his eyes were milky white and his breaths were laboured.

Harry reached out his hand to pet the poor bird when Fawkes suddenly burst into flames. Harry jumped back in surprise.

“Stupid bird”, called Harry and looked for any burns on his hand. “You did that on purpose.”

Harry heard a low chuckle behind him.

_Called it._

“Yes, I'm afraid that Fawkes' sense of humour takes some getting used to, my boy”, said Dumbledore, still chuckling. “However, as you can see, phoenix fire can do no harm.”

Dumbledore was right. Harry had felt the flames but the skin on his hand wasn't even reddened.

The Headmaster walked towards the perch and gently moved the ash to the side, revealing a small, wrinkled hatchling.

“It was about time, old friend”, said Dumbledore, smiling down at Fawkes. “You have been looking dreadful for days. Fascinating creatures, phoenixes. Don't you think, Harry?”

“Ah, yes, Professor Dumbledore”, answered Harry awkwardly. He had just remembered why he was here in the first place. “Witnessing the rebirth of a phoenix was an incredible experience.”

“A rare one too”, added Dumbledore and motioned him to sit down. “Not too many people can ever say that they experienced something so wondrous.”

The smile on Dumbledore's face vanished and was replaced with concern.

“No need to worry, Harry”, he said, seating himself behind his desk. “Rest assured, I do not believe that you attacked those students.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief.

“But I still want to talk to you.”

Dumbledore leaned forward and eyed Harry over his steepled fingertips, “I must ask you if there's anything – anything at all – you would like to tell me?”

Harry sensed an opportunity. Maybe this way he could gain some more information.

“I heard a rumour the other day”, he said hesitantly, still pondering on how to proceed. “Not really a rumour, just a few snippets of a conversation. Someone said that the Chamber of Secrets has been opened _again_.”

A shadow passed over Dumbledore's face. He looked older now – more tired. He leaned back with a heavy sigh and looked out of the window, recalling ghosts of the past.

“There were a few similar incidents decades ago”, he said glumly, still staring out of the window. “However, there was no evidence to support the rumours that the Chamber of Secrets was opened.”

“Professor, when you say 'similar incidents', do you mean that the affected students were petrified too?”, asked Harry curiously.

“Yes, several Muggle-born students were petrified back then”, said Dumbledore, turning his gaze back to Harry.

“So the incidents in the past are somehow connected to what's happening now?”

“Yes, most likely.”

The same method and the same type of victim. However, there was still one outlier. Harry knew that one Muggle-born had died and he just couldn't shake the feeling that this student's death was especially significant.

“Did they ever find out who did it?”

“No, unfortunately not. The attacks stopped but the one responsible was never caught.”

Now, that was interesting. According to Moon, Malfoy had said that the culprit had been caught and expelled. Could Malfoy be wrong? Or did Dumbledore lie?

“Anything else you want to share with me, my boy?”

“No, I don't think so, Professor.”

Dumbledore nodded, “Good. You may go now, Harry.”

“Thank you, sir”, said Harry and stood up.

“Should you remember or learn anything else, Harry, please don't hesitate to visit me again”, urged Dumbledore and added with a bit of amusement in his voice, “My door is always open. You of all people shouldn't have a problem getting past the gargoyle. Even without a password.”

Harry smiled shyly and crossed the room.

“One more thing, Harry”, called Dumbledore just as Harry reached for the doorknob.

Harry turned around. Dumbledore fixed him with a penetrating stare.

“Studying the Dark Arts, even without actually practising them, is very dangerous, Harry. They tempt us with easy solutions to our problems and empty promises of power. Wiser and more experienced wizards and witches have fallen to the Dark Arts”, he said gravely. “Leave the research to us adults.”

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Luna!”, called Harry up the stairs to the Girls' Dormitory. “Hurry up! The others have already left.”

It was the last day of the first term. Most students had chosen to return home during the holidays. The double attack on Finch-Fletchley and Sir Nicolas had caused panic among the students. The state of Sir Nicolas had people especially worried. It proved that nobody was safe, not even ghosts.

“I'm sorry, Harry”, said Luna, skipping down the stairs. “I was delayed by the Nargles.”

Harry smiled at her.

Luna was different. A free spirit with few earthly tethers.

Her silvery eyes were always wide open, absorbing every detail of the world around her. She saw things, others overlooked. She thought about matters, others paid no mind to. She addressed issues, others avoided.

She was her very own person and didn't care in the slightest what others thought of her.

Harry admired her for it and was even a little envious.

He might strive to be himself, more than the Boy-Who-Lived and more than the son of James and Lily Potter, but he felt the pressure forcing him into a mould and sometimes he caved.

“Tell your father Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year, will you?”

“Of course, Harry”, said Luna, giving him a brilliant smile. “And I'm sure if Daddy was here he would say the same. He really likes you, you know.”

Xenophilius Lovegood was as odd as his daughter. His fascination for conspiracy theories was contagious. Harry really enjoyed the man's monthly letters.

“Tell him thanks for keeping me in the loop. I'm really looking forward to his article on Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

Harry might have promised Dumbledore he wouldn't talk to the press without consulting him beforehand but at that time he had already shared the information on You-Know-Who's true name with Xenophilius.

The only reason why the article on Riddle's life before becoming Lord Voldemort wasn't published yet was that Xenophilius was still trying to gather further information on him.

“Maybe it will knock some sense into the magical community.”

She shook her head, “Unlikely. Most people are rather stubborn. They are creatures of habit.”

They exited the Ravenclaw Common room, went down the stairs and along the covered parapet walk towards the West Wing.

“Will you be alright on her own?”, asked Luna. She grabbed his hand and pulled him closer, eying him curiously. “You could always come with me. Daddy wouldn't mind.”

“Don't worry, Luna. I'll be fine”, he reassured her. “Besides, I'm not alone. There is still Hagrid, the Twins and Lisa.”

Lisa was the main reason why he didn't leave. She might be unaware of his presence but he would be by her side nevertheless.

“You shouldn't mind Ronald. His brain is all fuzzy because of the Wrackspurts.”

“I'll keep that in mind.”

Harry felt Luna shiver when they stepped out of the castle. He realised that she was wearing neither a scarf nor gloves nor her usual beret.

“Aren't you cold, Luna?”, he asked, kicking himself for not noticing sooner.

“The Nargles are more active at this time of the year”, she answered calmly. “It's the mistletoe, you know. They are infested.”

Nargles – Luna had told him everything about these mischievous thieves and while Harry wasn't entirely convinced of their existence, he definitely thought it possible.

The magical world was, after all, full of strange and mysterious creatures and Nargles would fit right in.

“Shouldn't your Butterbeer cork necklace keep them away?”

She narrowed her eyes in thought and tapped a finger against her chin, “You're right. Very strange.”

“Are you sure the Nargles stole your stuff, Luna?”, asked Harry, observing her carefully.

“Who else would it be?” she wondered and turned away, avoiding his gaze.

Harry frowned. The House of Rowena Ravenclaw, despite being known as the House of originality, individuality and acceptance as well as the home of several eccentric characters throughout the centuries, could be quite intolerant towards free spirits like Luna.

Harry had learnt this the hard way when he shared his belief about the castle with his classmates.

He let the matter drop for the moment, “I will ask the house-elves to look for your stuff over the holidays.”

“You really shouldn't bother them”, she scolded. “They deserve a nice Christmas.”

“Don't worry, Luna”, said Harry, squeezing her hand. “With most students gone, there won't be enough work to keep them happy. So they won't mind at all.”

He took his own scarf and wrapped her up.

Luna frowned, “But now you're cold.”

“I'll survive”, said Harry, giving her a smile.

Luna retreated further into her woollen cocoon and murmured, “How is your research going?”

“It could go better”, he sighted. “I've run out off clues.”

“If you don't find any clues in the present you should look for them in the past”, suggested Luna.

Harry shook his head, “Dippet managed to hush up the attacks and it happened decades ago. There won't be much to find.”

“You're probably right. Finding something that doesn't exist sounds rather tricky.”

 

The Hogwarts Archives were located in several underground chambers beneath the Library, containing historical records dating back to the Founders' Era.

After his conversation with Moon Harry had contemplated going down there to search for further information but dropped the idea rather quickly since Dippet had done a good job sweeping the incidents under the carpet.

However, now – encouraged by Luna – he had decided to take it up again.

One students had gotten expelled, another one had died. Several others had been petrified and spent time in the Hospital Wing.

Dippet might have been able to hide the real reason why those things had happened but they had happened and left traces behind – no matter how small or sparse.

A list of expelled students, a short note about missed exams due to a prolonged stay in the Hospital Wing, the report of a tragic 'accident'.

Even the lack of information could point him into the right direction.

The only problem now was how to get into the Archives without anyone noticing. Although Dumbledore had claimed that he didn't believe Harry was responsible for the attacks, he had the funny feeling he was being watched.

At times like this, Harry really missed his Invisibility cloak. After its destruction, he had looked up spells and potions in the library which can turn someone invisible but they were currently beyond his skill level.

Harry also figured that his old tricks, which he had used in primary school to stay unnoticed and hidden, wouldn't work on the staff.

Harry would have to wait until an opportunity presented itself.

 

Harry wanted to curl up and die when the Weasley Twins announced his arrival in the Great Hall for Christmas tea in a grand manner.

He really was grateful that Fred and George found the idea of him being the Heir so ridiculous that they tried to make a joke out of it. Unfortunately, they were the only ones who thought it was funny.

McGonagall's lips thinned in disapproval, Professor Sprout looked rather appalled and even Dumbledore's eyes stopped twinkling. Snape was just his usual self.

Needless to say, Harry didn't stay long and retreated back into his Common room where he browsed through his notes, waiting for a flash of inspiration on how to unravel the mystery of the Chamber of Secrets.

When Harry heard the eagle knocker ask his riddle, he expected Professor Flitwick to come in and check up on him since he was the only one left in Ravenclaw Tower.

He quickly hid his research and pulled a fantasy novel out of his bag.

However, it wasn't his Head of House who entered the Common room. It was Padma who looked around the room in awe.

“What are you doing here?”, asked Harry, puzzled.

“Merry Christmas to you, too, Po – Harry”, replied Padma, rolling her eyes. “I couldn't stand Parvati's constant chatter about fashion and make-up any longer.” She sat down across from him. “So I've decided to come back.”

“You couldn't stand it any longer?”, repeated Harry incredulously. “It's been only two days.”

“So what?”, she said sharply, crossing her arms. “Besides, nobody should spend Christmas by themselves”, she added in a gentler tone.

“Thanks...I guess.”

Something was definitely wrong. Padma had been really looking forward to spend time with her extended family. The Patils didn't celebrate Christmas but they still used school holidays to catch up with family. Something must have happened.

“You're welcome. So what are you up to?”, asked Padma eagerly.

“Just reading over my notes. You know, in case I've overlooked something”, he answered, pulling his notes out of their hiding place.

Padma's eyes lit up and she moved closer to Harry.

“Let me have a look”, she requested, reaching out her hand. “Maybe I can help.”

Harry hesitated. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about Padma.

So instead of giving her his notes, he asked, “Do you know what I don't understand?”

Padma frowned, “No, but tell me!”

“According to my source, Malfoy was overheard saying that the culprit was caught and expelled when the Chamber of Secrets was opened the last time.”

“Last time?”, said Padma with surprise in her voice.

“Yes, last time”, he confirmed, narrowing his eyes at her. “However, Dumbledore told me that the culprit has never been caught.”

“Are you sure you can trust Malfoy?”, she asked sceptically. “I mean...there is no reason to doubt the Headmaster's word.”

As far as Harry was concerned, there were multiple reasons to doubt the Headmaster's word. However, he wasn't going to tell her that, especially since Harry became more and more convinced that the person in front of him was not Padma.

Her reason for coming back was fishy at best and she also hadn't known that the Chamber had been opened before.

“I don't trust Malfoy but I trust my source”, insisted Harry. “And Malfoy has no reason to lie to his minions.”

The stack of books which lay on the table in front of them had caught the imposter's attention. She looked over them, grabbed Harry's book on Parseltongue and began to browse through it.

“He could be misinformed”, suggested 'Padma', her eyes flitting over the pages. “Or he just assumes that the culprit was caught. After all, they cannot be both right, can they?”, she added in a very familiar, patronising tone.

The person in front of him wasn't wrong. They couldn't be both right.

However, since everything had been hushed up there would be an official and an unofficial version of the events.

Maybe Dippet had just pretended to have caught the person responsible.

However, this wouldn't explain why the attacks had suddenly stopped.

A more likely explanation would be that the Heir had gotten cold feet and in order to avoid detection, had found a suitable fall-guy and accused them of their own crimes.

Maybe Dippet and the staff, desperate to save the school from closing, jumped at the opportunity and hadn't asked too many questions, condemning an innocent and letting the real culprit get away.

Maybe recent events had made Dumbledore doubt that the real Heir had been caught back then or he had had doubts all along.

“Do you think Malfoy himself is the Heir of Slytherin?”, she asked. Her eyes remained glued to the pages.

“I'm not sure”, answered Harry slowly.

They had already discussed the idea and discarded it shortly after. The Malfoy family didn't get their hands dirty. They pulled strings.

“He knows more than he should which means that his family is either involved or are at least in the know.”

'Padma', completely engrossed in the book, hardly listened to his answer.

No, this wasn't Padma. She wasn't Parvati either.

Harry had to admit that the thought had crossed his mind in the beginning. It would be the easiest explanation for the imposter. However, she didn't feel like Parvati, that is to say, if the person was a she. As far as Harry knew, she could be a he.

Besides, Parvati could always approach him – 'disguised' as Padma – while school was in session instead of taking the trouble to return during the holidays. It would be much safer and smarter that way.

The imposter shut the book and gently stroke the cover, “I don't remember seeing this book in the library.”

“Of course not”, he snorted. “It belongs to me. You bought it for me in India, remember?”

The doppelgänger blanched and laughed awkwardly, “Of course. Silly me!”

It was time to end this farce, “How long are you going to continue pretending to be Padma?”

“Wha-What are you talking about?”, the imposter asked nervously.

“Cut the charade”, said Harry impatiently. “I know you're not Padma. And neither are you Parvati. So who are you?”

'Padma' froze like a deer in the headlights before her eyes began to flicker between him and the exit. In the end, she decided against fleeing, slumped back and buried her face in her hands.

“I really should have known”, she murmured. “Ron and Seamus got it easy. Pretending to be Crabbe and Goyle isn't that hard. They hardly talk anyway and Malfoy is too self-centred to notice anything but fooling you...”, she trailed off.

“For the record, I don't believe you are the Heir”, she said, dropping her hands to the side. “The notion is rather ridiculous but Ron insisted we look into you too. After all, you are the only known Parselmouth in Hogwarts and –”

“Granger?”, asked Harry, cutting her off.

She nodded silently.

“How?”

“Polyjuice Potion”, she admitted hesitantly.

Harry whistled, “Wow, that's...that's really impressive.”

“Thank you.”

Harry had known that Granger was talented but brewing Polyjuice Potion at the age of thirteen was quite an accomplishment. It was a complex and demanding potion. Mistakes in its preparation could lead to lasting consequences.

“Look, Potter”, she said, getting up. “I probably should be going. Let's just forget this ever happened. Alright?”, she pleaded.

“I don't know”, he said, smiling mischievously. “What's in it for me?”

“You would really rat us out?”, she asked, outraged. Gryffindors were far too noble for their own good.

“Do you understand what could happen if the teachers find out about this? We could get expelled.”

Harry snorted, “Unsupervised brewing is no reason to expel you, Granger. You just would spend a few weeks in detention with Snape.”

Granger became white as a sheet at the mention of the Potions Master and while Harry had to admit that it was a rather harsh punishment, her reaction seemed exaggerated. _Unless..._

“Great Scott, Granger”, exclaimed Harry. “Don't tell me you stole the ingredients from his personal storage. Have you got a death wish?”

Harry remembered that Snape had mentioned Polyjuice Potion when he had scolded them for wasting precious ingredients. He had listed several potions which contained rare and expensive components and threatened to make them pay, should they ever botch them up.

“It was the only way”, she defended her actions. “Bicorn horn and boomslang skin are extremely rare.”

Snape would go nuts if he ever found out about this. He would make their lives a living hell, even more so since they were Gryffindors. He almost hated them as much as he despised Harry.

He couldn't turn them in. It would be like helping Snape. He shuddered at the thought.

“Relax, Granger. I won't tell anyone”, he reassured her. “Just give me the recipe and we'll forget about this.”

“Really?”, she asked hopefully.

“Yes, really”, answered Harry. “I don't like Snape any more than you do and I would never rat somebody out to him. I'm not that cruel.”

She let out a sigh of relief, “Good. Thank you.”

“Just out of idle curiosity, is there any Polyjuice Potion left?”

 

“Back, Fang – back!”, ordered Hagrid but the large boarhound didn't listen. He jumped at Harry and stuck his muzzle into the pockets of Harry's cloak.

“Good morning, Hagrid...Fang”, greeted Harry. He petted the dog and fed him a piece of cheese which was greedily devoured.

Hagrid shook his head in amusement, “Yeh shouldn' spoil 'im that much, Harry.”

“Come on, Hagrid”, said Harry, giving the giant a cheeky grin. “It's Christmas. Everyone deserves a gift.”

It was Saturday and that meant Harry was spending the morning baking with Hagrid.

His friend had come a long way since they had started this tradition. Eating his treacle toffee didn't cause lockjaw anymore and his rock cakes had become edible and totally unsuitable for use as a weapon.

Harry unpacked the ingredients he had borrowed from the Kitchens and put on his new apron.

It was a Christmas present from the Hogwarts house-elves. They had sewn together several tea-towels which made up their togas. It was actually well made but still looked rather whacky.

Hagrid broke into booming laughter as soon as he saw the patchwork apron.

Harry began to separate the eggs, a task that usually fell to him since Hagrid's hands weren't capable of handling eggs smaller than those of an ostrich.

“How are you doing, Hagrid? Anything new?”

“I'm alright. Was quite busy preparin' Hogwarts fer Christmas. Also had ter figure out how ter put protections around the chicken coop.”

The last part caught Harry's attention, “Protections around the chicken coop?”

“Another rooster was killed”, explained Hagrid. “And don' worry”, he added after seeing Harry frowning. “Got permission from Dumbledore first.”

Hagrid – despite having been expelled in his third year of Hogwarts – wasn't bad at doing magic, knowing spells which normally weren't taught until N.E.W.T.-level.

Harry was convinced that the giant was secretly studying magic.

However, there were times when his spells didn't work as planned, be it because of his lack of training or the state of his wand which had been worked into the shaft of a pink umbrella after being snapped.

“An' how are yeh, Harry?”, asked Hagrid. “Must be pretty quiet in the castle.”

“I'm good and you're right. It's pretty quiet in the Tower”, admitted Harry. “I don't mind though. I even kinda enjoy it.”

Hagrid gave him a scrutinising look, “The other students givin' yeh a hard time?”

“It's not bad, Hagrid”, reassured Harry. “Mostly angry glares and whispers. A few students demand that I get expelled. No hexes or curses.” _Yet._

Hagrid cleared his throat, “Yeh know, Harry. It's not our origin – I mean, skills – which show what we are. It's our choices.”

“That's...”, began Harry and looked up at Hagrid in surprise. “Rather deep, Hagrid. Thank you. Really.”

Hagrid coughed, “Dumbledore mighta told me something similar a while ago.”

“Doesn't matter, Hagrid”, chuckled Harry. “Thanks. You're a good friend. ”

“Don' mention it”, said Hagrid and clapped Harry on the shoulder. “Yeh know, talkin' ter snakes isn' a bad thin'. I bet Kettleburn would give his remaining arm ter talk with some o' his creatures.”

 

Harry was fuming. He had suspected that a few of Luna's classmates picked on her but he had clearly underestimated the situation.

They house-elves had not only found several pieces of her clothing, hidden away under mattresses and in armours, but also a couple of homework assignments and school books.

A pair of shoes had even been tossed over the cliff.

Clenching his teeth in anger, Harry added 'Research charms preventing theft' to his ever-growing to-do list, although part of him wanted nothing more than to threaten the ones responsible in Parseltongue.

The language sounded rather menacing and was ideal for said purpose.

 

“Nervous?”

Harry looked up from his mug of steaming hot water, “A little bit.”

The Christmas holidays were almost over and the students would be coming back tomorrow. Harry could deal with the rumours and accusations but he was worried that the students' animosity towards him could grow further.

He didn't want to attend school while constantly looking over his shoulder.

“Bear up, Harry!”, said Hagrid, trying to cheer him up. “The students will smarten up soon enough. You'll see.”

“Scared people are hardly reasonable, Hagrid”, said Harry. “They've even started the rumour that I only befriended Lisa last year because I wanted to divert suspicion from myself once I opened the Chamber.”

“Codswallop!”, grumbled Hagrid. “Jus' 'cause Slytherin an' You-Know-Who could talk ter snakes doesn' mean yer jus' like 'em.”

Harry perked up his ears, “I didn't know that You-Know-Who was a Parselmouth.”

“Not surprising”, said Hagrid, taking a nervous glance out of the window. “People don' like ter talk abou' 'im.”

The penny dropped.

“I'm so stupid, Hagrid”, groaned Harry, smacking his palm against his forehead. “How could I forget about this?”

“Harry?”

“You-Know-Who, Hagrid”, said Harry, getting exasperated with his own stupidity. “He attended Hogwarts seventy years ago. When the Chamber was opened the last time. This can hardly a coincidence.”

Hagrid gulped hard, “How do yeh know that?”

“I found out his true name last year. He attended Hogwarts from 1938 to 1945. His name was Tom Marvolo Riddle.”

“Riddle?”, asked Hagrid, sitting up straight and spilling half of his mug's content in the process.

“You know him?”

“He was a Slytherin, two years ahead o' me. He...”, Hagrid trailed off. His features darkened within the blink of an eye. “The bastard!”, he thundered and banged his fist on the table.

Hagrid was shaking with anger. The last time Harry had seen him like this was when Uncle Vernon had insulted Dumbledore.

“He was the one who accused Aragog o' killin' the girl.”

“Aragog?”

Hagrid turned towards Harry, “Aragog is my friend, Harry. He wouldn' hurt a fly”, he vowed. “He never left the cupboard I hid 'im in.”

Harry's mind was racing.

“Riddle framed you”, said Harry with sudden clarity, remembering his own theory. “That's why you were expelled. They thought you opened the Chamber?”

The idea that Hagrid was the Heir of Slytherin was utterly ridiculous. It took a certain kind of idiot to believe such nonsense.

The man had no prejudice against Muggle-born. He was kind, compassionate and...rather fond of large, monstrous creatures. The more dangerous, the better.

Thirteen year old Hagrid had been most likely just the same.

Harry cringed.

It wouldn't be hard to believe that Hagrid got his hands on a dangerous creature and tried to raise it inside the castle, only for it to get loose and attack the students.

He had been the perfect scapegoat.

“I didn't do it. I would never...I couldn'...”, he mumbled into his beard.

“I know you wouldn't do something like that”, Harry reassured his friend. “Besides, we just established that it was Riddle who opened the Chamber the last time.”

Tom Marvolo Riddle who was one of the most intelligent students to ever grace Hogwarts.

Tom Marvolo Riddle who grew up to become Lord Voldemort, Parselmouth and pure-blood supremacist.

Tom Marvolo Riddle, the Heir of Salazar Slytherin.

It all fitted together.

“Hagrid, you have to tell me what you know about the Chamber?”, Harry urged him. “You were there. You have to know something.”

Hagrid shook his head, “It's too dangerous, Harry. Leave it ter Dumbledore. He knows what ter do.”

Harry clenched his teeth in frustration. One day, the magical world's dependency on the great Albus Dumbledore would come back to bite them.

“Please, Hagrid. I have to know”, he pleaded. “Lisa is up there, petrified, because she wanted to visit me in the Hospital Wing. It's my fault.”

“Harry...”

“I have to do something or I'll get crazy while waiting for her to wake up.”

Hagrid sighted, his resistance drained away.

“Don' know much”, said Hagrid, conceding defeat. “Students were attacked, a Muggle-born was found dead in a bathroom. That's it.”

“Are you sure that Aragog didn't attack anyone?”, said Harry hesitantly.

Hagrid would never hurt anyone _intentionally._

However, he constantly underestimated the dangers, his creatures posed to ordinary mortal.  Norbert the Norwegian Ridgeback and Fluffy the three-headed dog came to Harry's mind.

And Aragog was likely just as dangerous.

The existence of two creatures within the castle back then could explain why just one student had been killed while the others had only been petrified. 

“O' course, I'm sure”, said Hagrid, appalled by the mere thought that Aragog harmed anyone. “I told yeh. He never left his cupboard.”

Hagrid nervously bit his lip and continued hesitantly, “There was something else in the castle. Another creature. Aragog felt it.”

“What kind of creature?” asked Harry, unable to sit still.

“Don' know”, shrugged Hagrid. “Asked Aragog many time but he refused ter tell me. Was deathly afraid o' it, in fact. Begged me ter let 'im leave.”

“Hagrid, what is Aragog exactly?”

A loud knock at the door prevented Hagrid from answering.

 


End file.
